


Tick Tock

by Ashley5627



Category: White Collar
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Beating, Cutting, Gen, Hurt Neal, Hurt/Comfort, Matthew Keller Is Evil, On The Fence AU, Season 3 Episode 9, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 31,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley5627/pseuds/Ashley5627
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of 'On The Fence' where Neal sees the video feed of the treasure is fake and Keller makes a split decision to kidnap Neal. Keller's original plan didn't work, so he's going to use Neal and the FBI to get what he wants. Neal!Whump. Beta'd!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dishonor Among Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Violence, language and graphic depictions of torture. Spoilers up to season 3, Episode 9.
> 
> I would like to thank Ummm. Okay I got nuthin for betaing my story!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.
> 
> Enjoy!

Neal looked at the screen in shock. Keller had the treasure. How did he manage that? Mozzie said it was safe, but it obviously wasn't.

Then Neal looked a little closer. He couldn't see anything on the lens that would block the view. The lens on the real 'treasure cam' had a large spot on the right of it, this camera did not. He had asked Mozzie to clean the lens several times when he was there, being as Neal couldn't go there himself, but he never did. For a guy that had the perfect recall, Mozzie could really forget some important things.

Neal discreetly turned off the watch just in case someone was listening in and just decided not to come and save him from Keller, then looked at the man that was smiling smugly at him. "You don't have the treasure," he told Keller with a smile of his own.

"What do you mean? It's right there," Keller explained as he pointed at the screen with his gun.

Neal pointed at the screen with his finger. "You see that?" He asked.

Keller got closer and looked intently for something that wasn't there. "What the hell am I looking at, Caffrey?" He asked in an annoyed voice.

"There was always a smudge on the lens. It's not there anymore."

"Maybe the little guy cleaned it off," Keller said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Neal shook his head. "You don't have the treasure. This isn't a real feed."

Suddenly, there was pounding on the door. "FBI, open up!" Someone yelled from the other side.

Keller quickly thought through his options. Caffrey wouldn't lead him to the treasure if he knew the feed was fake and figured out why he faked it. Unfortunately his opponent was smart, so he would probably figure it out soon enough, if he hadn't already.

Keller's only other option he had to still get the treasure was to take Caffrey with him and make him tell where it was.

"Come on, you're coming with me," Keller said and motioned Caffrey with his gun to the door that the Feds weren't pounding on.

Neal turned the watch back on. If Keller was going to kidnap him, he was going to get a confession for the FBI if he could. "Do you really think kidnapping me will help you?" Neal asked.

Keller smiled smugly. "I know it will. Now go." He motioned to Neal again and this time Neal listened to him and walked slowly to the door, with Keller right behind.

Right out of the door Keller pointed to the right. As Neal looked past some stairs, he saw a bookshelf and looked back at Keller with a questioning look.

"It's a secret passage," Keller explained. "See if you can figure it out."

Neal went up to the bookcase and saw that there was a panel there that could open. He moved his fingers along the edges of the panel and found a spot that pushed in. He pressed on it and the panel opened.

"Good job, Caffrey," Keller praised sarcastically.

Neal looked back at Keller to know the next step.

"You're going in first."

Neal turned back and opened the door all the way. It was extremely dark and he could barely see anything.

"Not afraid of the dark, are we?" Keller asked and took a small flashlight out of his pocket then turned it on. He shined the ray of light into the darkness. It revealed an old metal staircase. Neal and Keller when down the stairs and out of a door that led to the back of the building. The door couldn't be seen from the outside, so no one in the van know about it. And no one had seen Neal and Keller leave that way either.

A black van came into the alley and pulled up. The side door opened revealing two very large men with guns.

"Get in," Keller ordered and pushed Neal with the gun.

Neal could do nothing but comply. He got in and Keller followed behind him. Neal turned to Keller and saw a wide grin on his face, but before he could figure out why, there was a sudden jolt of pain on his neck and Neal gasped. It stopped a few seconds later and Neal slumped to the ground.

Neal looked up to see Keller holding a Taser. He pressed the Taser against Neal's arm. Pain shot though Neal again and he soon passed out.

WCWCWCWC

Neal woke up to be greeted by a monstrous headache and vaguely remembered Wilkes saying something about that when he had woken up from being tasered last time. He was really getting sick of being tasered and kidnapped by ally's-turned-enemies.

Neal decided the best way to approach this situation he was in was to keep his head down and feign unconsciousness. He could tell by the way his head was on his chest that he was sitting up, probably sitting in a chair. By moving his hands minutely, he could tell that they were tied behind his back with zip-ties. He could feel a familiar weight on his left ankle, but it was heavier than his anklet. And that had been taken off for the meeting with Raquel anyway. So what was on his ankle?

He could hear footsteps approaching and he tried to keep his breathing even.

"I know you're awake, Caffrey." Neal could have gone his whole life without hearing that voice.

Giving up on his act, Neal opened his eyes and looked up. Keller was standing in front of him with that same smug smile on his face. God he hated that smile.

"Mornin', sunshine," Keller said in a cheerful voice.

Neal ignored Keller for the time being to get a bearing of his surroundings. He was in a small room that had no windows and only one door. As he suspected, he was sitting in a metal chair and his hands were tied to the chair behind his back. The only things in the room were Keller, himself, a table and the chair he was sitting in.

He looked down and saw that a heavy manacle was tightly wrapped around his left ankle, where the anklet usually was. A chain was attached to it and disappeared to somewhere behind him. Keller's twisted humor was not lost on Neal.

"You were missing the jewellery the Feds gave you, so I replaced in with some of my own. You like it?" Keller said, noticing where his attention was.

"I'm tied to a chair; do you really need to restrain my foot too?"

"I know all about your 'alleged' abilities to escape from almost anything, even zip ties. Call it _'insurance'_. You know all about insurance, right, Caffrey? I mean you were hooking up with that Sterling Bosh chick, right?" Keller could tell that he was really getting to Neal, so he pushed on. "You sure she wasn't just doing you so you would eventually tell her where that Rafael is? You stole that piece to get Kate's attention, right? She did love that painting."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Keller!" Neal finally yelled.

"Is Kate a delicate subject for you? Is it because it's _your_ fault she's dead?"

Neal thought a lot about that day. Some days he thinks that it's his fault that Kate was on that plane, but on other days, better days, he realizes that they both wanted a happy ending and Vincent Adler took that away, Neal didn't.

Neal didn't know how to answer Keller, so he didn't say anything.

"What, no excuses? No _'it wasn't me who blew up the plane'_? It was your fault she was on it."

Neal just glared at Keller. He wouldn't show him just how much his words were getting to him. About how his words were what echoed through his head far too often.

"You know, I was just going to torture you until you told me where you hid you're little stash, but I came up with something much more fun."

Neal heart rate picked up at the mention of torture. Keller was a murderer and a bastard, but he wouldn't torture someone, right?

"Come on in here boys," Keller called.

One of the large men from the van and another smaller man came through the door.

The large man had a tattoo of a boa constrictor that wrapped around his huge bicep, so Neal nicknamed him Snake for the time being. For some reason that Neal did not want to know about, there was video camera on a tripod in his big hands.

The smaller man looked like he could be a poster child for computer nerds. He was wearing glasses and was very pale. His clothes consisted of a plaid shirt that was neatly tucked into khakis. And he was actually wearing suspenders. On that note, Neal decided to call him Erkel.

Snake put the camera in front of Neal and Erkel started setting it up.

"You're curious, aren't you?" Keller asked, but continued without an answer. "I got a nice little setup here. This video camera is linked right to the FBI. They'll be able to see and hear everything."

"What's you're angle, Keller?" Neal couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, it'll be so much more fun than you just leading me to the treasure. You just wait." Neal could see some sort of twisted glee in his eyes and was afraid of why it was there.

"It's set up," Erkel told Keller, his high-pitched voice unsurprising. "Do you want me to turn it on?"

Keller nodded. "Yes. I think the Feds would love to see their _'pet'_." Keller said the last word with a mix of amusement and disgust.

Erkel clicked a button on the camera and a red light turned on.

"This is going to be fun," Keller told Neal and turned to address the camera in a cheerful voice that would have been more appropriate if he was accepting an award. "You have two hours to find and give over the treasure. If you fail to do so, Neal here will pay the price. And since I'm such a nice guy, I'll give you two more hours after that... But if you fail again Neal will pay the price again. Do you see the pattern? I hope so, because you have-" he brought up his arm and read his watch. "One hour and fifty-eight minutes. I started it when I thought you should have decided to start looking for it."

"The FBI doesn't know where the treasure is and they don't know how to get it," Neal told Keller.

Keller pulled out a digital timer and set it on the table next the camera. It was set at one hour and fifty-seven minutes and counting down. "For your sake, let's hope they do."


	2. Black And Blue

The moment Jones told him that Neal was gone; Peter knew that his day just got a hell of a lot worse. But he would have never expected what happened a few hours later.

Raquel and the amulet were gone as well. Somehow she had gotten out of the building without being seen, so Peter suspected that she had at least one escape route hidden in the building.

When they finally fixed the GPS on the watch, it lead them to a dumpster three blocks away from where they last saw Neal. Unfortunately Neal wasn't attached to it, grinning like an idiot when they opened up the dumpster and telling Peter he took long enough to get there. No, Neal was gone.

Did he run? Peter didn't think he would in the middle of an operation, but you never know what to expect with him.

Did Raquel take him? She may have not looked that intimidating, but anyone with a gun could kidnap someone. Or she had help.

Peter didn't know what to think, so after he did all that he could at the scene, he went back to the bureau to see if anyone else had something.

The moment he got off the elevator, Peter knew that something was happening. Most of the agents were in the conference room. Hughes was at the head of the table talking to his agents about something. And Jones was on Peter's laptop for some reason.

When Peter walked in everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Peter. "What? Do you guys have a lead?"

Hughes looked grim. "Your laptop uploaded something to itself." Hughes pointed at the laptop and Jones turned it around.

"We wouldn't have known, but I left mine at home and just used yours," Jones explained, but Peter was too busy staring at the screen to really care about his words.

There was a window pulled up and in the middle of the screen were a few simple words. 'Waiting for Peter Burke...' The dots after his name were appearing one by one then disappeared just to start over again, as if they were just waiting for Peter to come in.

Peter turned to looked at Hughes and saw that the same image was on the flat screen on the wall behind his boss.

"What the hell is this?" Peter asked to no one in particular.

Hughes started to say something when the screen went black. All agents looked at either the laptop or the TV as an image appeared.

Neal was sitting in a chair. He didn't look like he was hurt, but he looked pissed off. It looked like his hands were tied behind his back and, much to Peter's confusion; a manacle was around Neal's left ankle. But when he saw who was standing in front of his partner and heard that cocky voice everything seemed to make a lot more sense.

"This is going to be fun," Keller said and turned to address the camera.

WCWCWCWC

Five minutes and twenty-four seconds. The red numbers on the clock were taunting him. Five minutes and some odd seconds until Keller came in and did god knows what to him.

Keller wouldn't actually hurt him, would he? He was a lot of things, but Neal was pretty sure that he wasn't evil enough to torture him. Of course Neal didn't think that Keller was a killer until he shot one their partners after a heist.

In the last hour and fifty or so minutes since Keller turned the camera back off and left, Neal tried to find a way out of his bindings, but it seems that Keller took everything to help him escape and then some. Keller took his jacket, tie, tie bar, glasses, cuff links and the FBI's watch all before he woke up.

The zip ties were very tight and any attempt to get out of them only resulted in the sharp plastic cutting into his wrists.

The minutes ticked by as Neal tried to come up with a plan. If he somehow got out of the zip ties he would still have to deal with the ankle cuff. He already pulled on it, but it seemed to be secured to something behind him. With the way he was tied up, he couldn't turn around to see where the chain went either. And if some how he got past those two obstacles, he still had the thick metal door with no lock on this side to pick.

As much as Neal hated to admit, Keller did a good job at securing him. It wouldn't be easy, but he was _The_ Neal Caffrey after all.

Neal looked back at the timer as the last seconds counted down. The moment it hit zero and started beeping Keller walked in with his stupid smirk still intact.

"Look at that, just in time," he said. He walked over to the timer and turned it off. He then turned the camera on. "Say 'hi!'"

Neal remained quiet and just glared at Keller.

Keller circled Neal like a shark. "I called your owner and he said that he didn't have what I wanted yet, so I'm going to show him what happens when I don't get what I want."

"You going to throw a fit?" Neal asked.

"Funny," Keller said in a tone that suggested that he didn't find it funny at all.

Keller stopped in front of Neal. The look of glee was back in his eyes as he landed his first blow. It hit Neal right in the stomach and knocked the air out of his lungs. Then he hit him again, and again. In the chest, stomach and face. Pain burned though Neal like fire from each hit. It seemed like forever before he finally stopped the vicious assault.

Neal panted and let his head rest on his chest. He could feel blood trailing down his hands and on to the floor from his cut wrists. One of the blows to his face caused his nose to bleed too and it dripped on to his white shirt. The pain in his chest pulsed with the beat of his heart and just breathing made it worse.

"You have two more hours to get the treasure. And next time I won't hold back," Keller told the camera and left.

Neal looked up to see that he turned the camera back off and started the timer again. Two more hours until Keller came back in and didn't hold back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make me smile!


	3. Knife's Edge

Peter, most of the White Collar crew, a few people from tech and missing persons had worked as hard as they could to figure out where Keller had Neal, but had come up with dead ends.

The recording from the watch was still messed up somehow so there were no leads from that. But tech was still trying.

The thing that downloaded to Peter's laptop was some sort of virus, but tech couldn't figure out how it got on there.

The recording of Neal was played over and over for any hints to where Neal was, but all they came up with was the room he was in had old and decrepit walls that suggested an old or abandoned building. There just wasn't enough to look at from their view.

Peter, Jones, Diana and Elizabeth all tried to reach Mozzie, but he wouldn't answer any of the numbers they knew about and he wasn't at Neal's apartment either. And who knows where the little guy's hideouts were. 'Probably Neal,' Peter had thought to himself. 'but what help is that now?'

So when Keller called Peter's phone two hours after his threat, the only thing Peter could say was that they were trying. That obviously wasn't good enough for him and everyone had to watch as Neal was beaten by the bastard.

Peter thought that he was going to be sick when he watched Keller hit Neal over and over, and one of the new probies that giggled like a school girl every time Neal smiled at her left in a rush to the bathroom after the screen went blank again probably to do just that.

The last image of Neal was of his head on his chest with his hair hanging so Peter couldn't see his face. It may have been a small mercy because Peter wasn't sure he could stand to see Neal in so much pain. And he was pretty sure that they wouldn't get the same twisted generosity in two more hours.

Two more hours. That was not long enough to figure out where Neal was. They were going to have to watch Neal get beaten, or worse, again.

WCWCWCWC

Three minutes and thirty-five seconds.

Neal decided that it was very boring to just sit in a chair for hours. He was a man of action, not of inaction. He always liked to go undercover because he was in the middle of it all. And the van was like torture to his active nature. Well, maybe not _quite_ torture.

There was nothing to do but watch the numbers count down, one by one until Keller came back in to hurt him again. Then it starts all over again.

It may be boring to watch time tick by, but Neal decided that it was a hell of a lot better than what was going to happen when the timer reached zero.

Any and all attempts to get out of his bindings were fruitless. Anything short of dislocating his thumb didn't seem to work, and Neal wasn't that desperate; yet. He believed that Peter would come and save him soon enough, he would just have endure until then.

Just like last time, Keller walked in right when the timer started beeping. "Nice to see you again, Caffery. Cozy?"

"You know, I was just starting to get comfortable," Neal said and wiggled around in his seat a little. "This chair is really good for my posture."

"Good to know. I'll be sure to change that." He smiled menacingly and turned on the camera. He walked in front of Neal and pulled a knife out of his pocket. "Your master failed you again, and now you'll have to pay, again."

Neal's stomach clenched in fear as Keller brought the knife closer to Neal's face. "Wait!" Neal yelled and reflexively tried to move his arms to fend Keller off, but they stayed stubbornly behind his back. But lucky for Neal, Keller actually stopped. "You're not going to get the treasure this way. The FBI doesn't know where it is."

Keller moved the knife along Neal's face like some sort of twisted parody of a caress. "The Feds may not know where to look, but I'm sure they can find Mozzie and he'll lead them to the treasure. The little guy knows, right? Or did keep your dirty little secret from everyone?"

Keller moved the knife to Neal's chest and pressed the tip of the blade just enough to draw blood. Neal winced, but didn't answer.

"We both know that you didn't tell Burke, or you'd be wearing orange." He put a little more pressure to the knife. "Does Sara know? Alex, you still in touch with her? Would you have told Kate if she was alive?"

Neal shook his head. "You're a bastard," he whispered.

Keller smiled and in one quick motion slashed the knife down Neal's chest, cutting open his shirt and slicing skin. Neal held in a groan as best as he could as he pinched his eyes shut and breathed fast through his nose.

After a minute Neal opened his pained blue eyes again and looked into Keller's cold brown ones. "Your plan's not going to work," Neal told him. "The FBI doesn't negotiate with sadistic kidnappers, especially to give away billions of dollars worth of treasure for a CI."

"Bet that hurts. You risk your life day in and day out, but they still don't even trust you as far as they can throw you. And don't lie to yourself that Burke is any different. At the end of the day, he's a fed, and feds are our natural predator."

"I'm _nothing_ like you," Neal spat.

"I don't know about that. Were both thieves, liars, artists, con-men. We're more alike than you and Burke."

"I'm not a murderer, or a sadist."

Keller nodded in agreement. "True." He put the blade back on Neal's chest again. "Ya know, you could just tell me where it is and I'll finish you quickly."

Neal stared at Keller with pure hatred in his eyes. "Go to hell."

"In due time," Keller replied.

The blade swept across Neal chest and made a shallow but long cut. Neal couldn't help but cry out as pain followed the path of the blade. Two more slices across his stomach had Neal gasping in pain.

"You're pathetic," Keller said in disgust.

"Give me that knife...and we'll see...how pathetic you are," Neal panted.

Keller chuckled. "You don't have the balls," he said arrogantly.

"You'd be surprised what I'm capable of...when motivated." Neal opened his eyes again when he felt the blade on his leg.

"Now that would be interesting. You and me, one on one. Battling it out." Keller took the blade off Neal's leg and held it at his side. "Who do you think would win?" He asked.

"Untie me and we'll find out."

A grin spread across Keller's face. "I would have considered that if you weren't so important to my plan."

"It's nice to know I'm not expendable."

Keller shrugged. "Just for the time being." He suddenly swung the knife and cut Neal arm, just below the shoulder.

Neal yelped in pain and surprise. He pinched his eyes shut but turned back to Keller when he started talking again.

"You have two more hours," he said to the camera. "Next time I'm thinking a cattle prod or fire poker." He turned to Neal. "Which one would you like, Caffery?"

"Screw you, Keller," Neal replied.

Keller shrugged. "Fine, I'll surprise you," Keller said. He then turned off the camera and left.

Neal looked down at his chest and saw that the cuts were all bleeding, but weren't life threatening. He looked at the cut on his arm and saw that it was deeper than the others, but he wouldn't bleed out from it either. Keller wanted to inflict the most damage he could without killing him. There was no point in killing him; yet.

Neal let out a shaky breath, which just made his bruised body hurt worse.

'Peter is coming. All I have to do is endure until then,' He told himself.


	4. Shock And (Not) Awe

Peter's phone started ringing and everyone just looked at it for a second. Peter didn't have anything new to tell Keller, so he really didn't want to talk to him again. But he picked up the phone nonetheless.

"Keller."

"Burke, it's great to hear your voice again!" Keller's voice said through the speaker on Peter's phone. "So, you know where the treasure is yet?"

Peter sighed. "No, we don't know yet. But we're-"

Keller cut Peter off. "I don't care about how hard you're trying! I want my treasure!" He yelled, dropping his cheerful act like a rock, then all Peter could hear was the dial tone.

Peter took the phone away from his ear and looked at it like he didn't understand what it was or why it was there. He quickly snapped out of his daze and turned to the agent that was trying to trace the call.

The agent shook his head. "Sorry, I couldn't get it," he said.

"Damn it!" Peter yelled and resisted throwing the phone at the wall.

When the laptop showed the image Neal tied to the chair again Peter couldn't wait to get his hands around Keller's neck. The bastard was going to pay, that much was for certain.

When Keller pulled the knife out of his pocket everyone knew that he was completely serious about his threats. He wouldn't stop until he had the treasure or Neal was dead. Unfortunately no one knew where the treasure or Mozzie was, so the latter seemed to be more likely.

But Peter was definitely not going to give up. If Mozzie was still in the city, Peter was going to find him.

One of the problems with the plan to give the treasure to Keller was that the higher ups would never trade the treasure for a criminal. But if Peter did find Mozzie and he gave him the treasure, Peter would go rouge and save Neal. Even though he'd most likely had the treasure all along. He was still Peter's friend and he was still a human being that was being tortured. And if Peter could do something to stop it, he wasn't going to just sit on his thumbs and watch Neal getting creatively tortured every two hours.

WCWCWCWC

Literally like clockwork, Keller sauntered in to the room two hours after he left. He was casually holding a cattle prod in his hand.

'Looks like he chose,' Neal thought to himself.

"It was a hard decision, but I just had to go with this." He pressed a button on the handle of the stick and electricity shot between the two prongs.

Neal swallowed hard and unconsciously tested his bonds. They didn't give, of course, but it was worth a try.

"Did you know that you could get these things for dogs? It seemed fitting so I couldn't resist." Keller turned off the timer and turned on the camera.

Neal didn't need a professional opinion to know that Keller was insane. The manic look in his eyes was proof enough.

He walked up to Neal and put the prongs on his chest but didn't turn the device on. Neal refused to let the terror that he felt inside show on his face. "Burke still won't hand over the treasure. Do you think he hasn't found it by now, or he just doesn't want you back?" He moved the prongs to one of the cuts and pushed them in until it started bleeding again then turned the cattle prod on.

Pain like no other coursed through Neal's body and he couldn't help but scream. It was overwhelming and all consuming. Then, just as fast as it started, the pain dulled down to what Neal was becoming far too used to.

"I made a few adjustments to it. It wasn't letting out enough watts, so I fixed it up. What do you think?"

Neal didn't answer. Even if he could answer he wouldn't have. Just when he was starting to get his breath back the pain was back again. From the blood pounding in his ears he couldn't tell if he screamed or not, but he probably did.

He must have passed out because the next thing he remembered was a hard slap to the face. His head snapped to the side and he moaned but didn't open his eyes.

"You can't check out on me that fast. I still need you." Keller's voice was like nails on chalkboard at this point. Neal's head was pounding and he just wanted to sleep.

"You're supposed to treat something important nicely," Neal mumbled.

Keller didn't speak for several seconds and Neal was tempted to open his eyes and see why, but he felt that he would lose his battle against throwing up and didn't want to risk it.

"I think this is much more fun," Keller finally said.

There was a pressure on his chest again and he steeled himself for more pain. When none came he opened his eyes and looked into what had to be the eyes of the devil. Keller smiled and shocked him again.

Pain shot through Neal's body and screamed until his voice was hoarse. By the time Keller stopped, tears of pain, fear and exhaustion unwillingly spilled from his eyes. His breath was coming in shallow pants. Every single one of his nerves were screaming with pain. His head was far too heavy at the moment, so he let it rest on his chest.

Maybe if Keller thought that he was unconscious again he would leave him alone for two more hours. He didn't leave though. Neal didn't see him, but he could feel his breath on his neck that stunk of cigarettes. And when he spoke, he could tell that he was right next to his ear.

"How much longer can you endure the penalties of your master's inaction? By the looks of it, not much longer," he whispered. When Neal didn't say anything Keller grabbed his hair and forced his head up.

Neal met Keller's gaze and spat in his face. Keller responded by punching him across the jaw. Stars exploded in his eyes and he welcomed the painless darkness that was calling him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, bad Keller!
> 
> Reveiws make me smile!


	5. Houdini Didn't Have A Sadist Stopping Him

Neal's agonized screams echoed in everyone's ears long after the screen went black again.

Every agent knew not to say anything to Peter as they feared if they did he would either lash out or breakdown and start crying. Diana had already broken two pens from the death grip she had on them and was working on her third. Jones was getting everyone coffee as there was nothing for him to do. Hughes was giving out orders to his agents to re-check everything they already checked half a dozen times.

No one wanted to watch the video again, but there was no more getting out of it. "Play it again," Hughes ordered Jones.

Jones looked at Peter for a second then started the video again.

WCWCWCWC

Neal woke from his painless bliss to the hell that's become his life.

He looked at the clock to see he was unconscious for an hour. The camera was off again and Keller was nowhere to be seen.

Neal was wrong - Keller was capable of torture. And he seemed to actually like it. The look in his eyes when he was hurting Neal was going to haunt his dreams for a very long time. That is if he made it out of this alive.

What was helping Neal stay sane was the thought that Peter was doing everything in his power to get him out of there. Neal knew for a fact that he was doing everything he could, but would he make it in time? Of course he will make it in time - he's Peter. Peter always finds him.

But what if he didn't? Neal couldn't take much more of what Keller was doing to him. He had to get out of the zip ties, but the only way to even have a chance was to dislocate his thumb. He wasn't sure he could take anymore pain, let alone be the one to cause it.

But it was the only way.

Decision made, Neal steeled himself for the pain while he moved his fingers into position. Just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot and _pop_.

The pain was intense, but he held back the scream that wanted to escape. If Keller heard him he might come back sooner than expected.

The zip ties where tight and he already rubbed his wrists raw, but after ten agonizing minutes, he was out of his bindings. His shoulders where screaming from the position they were in for more than seven hours, as was the rest of his stiff body, so he moved them around to loosen them up.

His first attempt to stand quickly brought him back in his seat when his head swam and pulsed. He held his head in his hands, careful of his left thumb, while the dizziness and pain passed. When he opened his eyes again he saw his next problem - the ankle cuff. He was so used to having a weight there that he actually forgot about it. The beatings he took probably didn't help either.

He carefully bent down and examined it. It was thicker than an ordinary ankle cuff, and the chain attached to it was bolted to the wall behind the chair and it didn't look like it would come loose any time soon. But it did have a key hole, and that is something that Neal could work with.

He looked around the room without getting up. There wasn't anything he could see from that position that would help him, so he slowly stood up and was proud to see that he could that time. The chain was about five feet long so he couldn't reach the camera, the table with the timer or the door. He could only reach two of the corners, but there wasn't anything there except old newspapers and cigarette butts.

Finally after looking at everything he could around the room, he turned to himself. Keller probably took all of his lock picks, but he might as well look.

He already knew the one in his shirt cuff was gone, his belt was gone so the one in it was as well and the ones in each of the heels of his shoes were gone. There was only one more place to look.

Neal pulled out the pocket of his pants and checked the seem. There it was, the thing that was going to get him out of there - a little metal lock pick.

With his left thumb dislocated, Neal had a little trouble getting it out, but he eventually did. The lock on the cuff was actually very easy to pick, easier than FBI issued handcuffs that he mastered long ago. Neal suspected that Keller didn't expect him to get out of the zip ties, or have any lock picks left. Keller had underestimated him.

After getting out of the ankle cuff, Neal went over to the door to see if he could open it, but there wasn't even a nob. There was no lock to pick, or hinges to take apart. He was going to have to wait until Keller came back and attack then.

He looked back at the timer to see that he had ten minutes until Keller came back. His gaze went to the video camera that had been recording his beatings. A wave of humiliation came across him at the thought of so many people watching his moments of weakness and fear.

Many of the people at the office see him as Neal Caffery, the suave, charismatic ex-conman that proved his worth by helping close case after case for the bureau. Now what they see is a conman being tortured for treasure that was supposed to have been destroyed. Peter had to know by now that Neal knew about it the whole time.

Was he going to jail if he managed to escape? Would Peter really do that? He did know about the treasure and not say anything about it. But he couldn't possibly tell Peter without Mozzie or himself spending time behind bars, and he couldn't do that to his oldest friend. And prison wasn't fun the first time for Neal, so going back was something he would like to avoid if he could.

Neal sighed. He would deal with all of that after he escaped. Two minutes until Keller came back in, he had to focus now.

Neal walked over and picked up the chair he had been sitting in. It was the only weapon he had, so it was going to have to work. He walked back over to the door and stood behind it.

Adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay, but that was going to run out soon. Hopefully he could take down Keller before then.

3...2...1. The heavy metal door opened and Keller walked in. "Caffrey, guess what," he said without looking at the spot where Neal was supposed to be.

That was Neal's chance. He charged Keller with the chair held high and swung it at him as hard as he could. Keller, not prepared for an attack, went down. Neal lifted the chair for another swing when a agonizing pain in his foot made him loose his balance. With the chair in mid swing, he couldn't correct his course and he fell forward and would have landed on top of Keller if Keller didn't move before he was landed on.

Neal looked up to see Keller standing above him holding a knife that was slick with blood. Keller swung his foot to kick Neal, but Neal blocked that attack and grabbed Keller's other ankle and pulled as hard as he could. Keller lost his balance and they were both on the ground.

Keller still had the knife but pulled out his gun from the waist of his pants and pointed it at Neal, who reluctantly raised his hands in surrender.

"Damn Caffrey, you got a mean swing," Keller said as he wiped the blood that was coming from a cut on his forehead.

"Could've won if you didn't cheat," Neal said a little breathlessly, indicating the gun in Keller's hand.

Keller shrugged. "Do what ya gotta do. Now up," he instructed with a wave of his gun.

Neal started to rise, but the pain in his foot came back and he gasped in pain. He looked down to see that there was a hole in his shoe and there was blood coming from it. He then looked up to the knife that was still in Keller's hand. "You stabbed my foot?"

"You hit me with a chair," Keller countered.

Neal wasn't going to get into it with Keller about everything that he's done to him in the last half a day, so he just stood up, mostly using his left foot.

"Put the chair back where it was and sit down," Keller ordered.

Neal limped over to where the chair landed and picked it up, then put it back in front of the camera. Keller put the knife back in his pocket and looked away for a second to turn on the camera.

Neal had only one more chance to get out of there and he wasn't going to waist it.

Neal used his finely honed pickpocket skills to grab the knife out of Keller's pocket. He held it up to Keller's throat and made sure to put enough force behind it to show he was serious. "Give me the gun," he ordered in Keller's ear.

Even from behind Keller, Neal could see the grin on his face. "I guess you do have balls," he said and handed Neal the gun handle first over his shoulder.

While Neal was temporarily distracted with taking the gun, Keller grabbed the arm that had the knife and elbowed Neal in the stomach at the same time. The gun dropped to the ground under the two men's feet. Neal tried to resist, but in his weakened state, he was no match against Keller and Keller elbowed him again and took back the knife.

Before Neal could try to get the gun, Keller turned kneed him in the stomach, hitting the bruises and cuts already there. Neal went down and landed hard on the cement floor, sending shockwaves of pain over his body and rendering him paralyzed by the pain; The adrenaline was definitely wearing off.

Keller took that opportunity to kick Neal in the stomach. Neal curled up into himself to try to protect himself from more damage. Keller took the gun and kicked Neal again.

"You can't win, Caffrey," Keller said. "You're stuck here until I say otherwise." He turned the camera and said, "how do you keep him in line, Burke? He just won't listen to me." Only then did Neal realize that the camera was on the whole time.

Keller turned back and pistol-whipped Neal in the head. The last thing Neal saw before everything went black was that manic smile on Keller's face.


	6. Of Agony And Heartbreak

Peter thought the worst when the laptop didn't show Neal for eight minutes and seven seconds. Yes, he counted each second. He thought that maybe Neal died from internal injuries or something while Keller was out of the room. He thought that Keller had gotten bored or thought that his plan wasn't working fast enough and just killed Neal and dumped his body in the Hudson, never to be found.

What Peter really saw was Keller blocking the view of the rest on the room until Neal came up and put a knife to his throat.

The first time Peter had a spark of hope in a long time was when he saw Neal press the knife against Keller's neck. He thought that maybe Neal might be able to overpower Keller, but obviously his injures had weakened him.

After Keller knocked Neal out he turn to the camera and said "You need to stop dragging your feet, Burke. He may not last much longer," then turned off the camera.

If Keller gave Peter the slightest chance to shoot him when they found him, Peter would take it. No hesitation. He would definitely sleep better at night knowing that monster was dead. The only problem with that plan was that Peter still didn't know where the bastard was.

The recording from the watch was finally fixed, but it didn't give them any clues as to where Keller took Neal.

No one could find the little guy. He just seemed to drop off the face of the earth right when things went to hell.

The hardest part of all of this was watching Neal go through hell and knowing he couldn't stop it. He felt completely useless.

WCWCWCWC

The next time Neal woke up his whole body was a mess of pain. His head was pulsing and he could feel blood from his new wound dripping sluggishly down his face. His foot, wrists and thumb were throbbing and his chest was in agony. Breathing was becoming a painful chore.

He really didn't want to, but he opened his eyes to see that he was back in that Goddamn chair. At least he wasn't hanging from the ceiling by his wrists or something. 'You know that your life is bleak when that's the silver lining,' Neal thought to himself.

Neal looked down and waited a moment for the room to stop moving. When it did, he could see that his blood and sweat soaked shirt was missing. He could feel that his hands were bound by a wire this time, a very tight and painful wire. If the zip ties were hard to get out of, the wire would be nearly impossible, and the ankle cuff was back on his ankle.

The timer that counted down to more pain said that there were eighteen minutes left until Keller came back in. Neal closed his eyes again and just wallowed in his misery and failure for a minute.

So this is how it ends for The Great Neal Caffrey.

Before he was caught, Neal didn't really think he could die, but if he did he thought he would be shot in some spectacular heist gone wrong by a security guard, or fall to his death after losing his footing from some impressive height.

Then after he met Kate, he thought they would buy a house with a white picket fence and they would have their happily-ever-after. They would have kids that they would love and cherish. They would grow old together and one day he would die, but he would die happy that he had such a great life with the ones he loved.

But that dream died with her.

But after he started working with Peter again, Neal thought he would die saving innocents, or jump in front of a bullet meant for Peter. It sounded like something that Peter would yell at him for doing, but also like something Neal would do and not think twice about it.

It would have been very dramatic. Peter would hold him in his last moments while he tried to stop the inevitable. Neal would tell him how much he enjoyed working with him and the Bureau, and Peter would do the same. Peter's eyes would get misty, but he wouldn't let the tears fall until Neal closed his eyes for the last time. Peter would mourn, but eventually move on with the life that Neal sacrificed his own for.

But now it seemed like he was going to die at the hands of his enemy. At the hands of a sadist. That was not how The Great Neal Caffrey was supposed to die. But if Peter didn't get here soon, that was what was going to happen, sooner or later.

Three sounds he's grown to hate brought him from his dark thoughts - the beeping of the timer, the heavy metal door scraping against the cement floor and Keller's cocky voice.

"It's time to wake up, Caffrey," Keller said and, just like every time, turned off the alarm and on the camera. 'Wait, how many times has Keller come in here and tortured me?' Neal wondered to himself. 'Far too many, that's for sure.'

He came over and grabbed Neal's chin and forced him to look him into his eyes. Keller looked a lot blurrier than he did last time - everything did really.

"Do you think that Burke doesn't want you, or is he really that bad of a detective?" Keller asked, but went on without an answer, knowing he wouldn't get one. "I mean he has so many resources at his disposal, you'd think that he could find where you're hiding your little stash. I'm really starting to think that he's not even trying. I mean you're just a criminal, he probably values you as much as a cheap pair of shoes - to be used and thrown away when no longer useful." Keller leaned forward and whisper in his ear, "Are you still useful, Caffrey?"

"You know, Keller, I have a question for you," Neal whispered back. "Do you think you'll enjoy the treasure more than you've enjoyed torturing me?"

Keller thought about that for a minute. "I just might. That is if your master can give me what I want before I get carried away." Keller pulled pliers out of his pants pocket and brandished them. "But I'm definitely gonna have my fun while I can."

Keller grabbed the chair and turned it ninety degrees so the camera could only see one side of him. The legs of the chair and the chain scraped against the floor and Neal winced when the noise made his headache worse. He went behind the chair and Neal instinctively fisted his hands, knowing exactly what Keller was going to do.

Keller forced Neal's left hand open. He was far too weak to be able to resist much. "Now, now, Caffrey, no need to be shy," he said and Neal could feel the pliers clamp over his fingernail. "It looks like you started without me," Keller said, referring to his dislocated thumb.

Neal pinched his eyes shut and prepared himself for the pain.

WCWCWCWC

Two more hours and they still weren't any closer the finding where Neal was being held captive.

"If you get Caffrey back in time, do you I think that he'll ever forgive you?" Keller asked after Peter regretfully told him, once again, that he didn't have the treasure. "He's a bit of a mess now, so how do you think he'll be in two hours? Or four? Or six?" There was a fittingly evil laugh on the other end of the phone, then a dial tone.

Peter knew that Neal wasn't a petty man, but he wasn't sure if Neal could forgive him for not saving him yet. Of course, he had to find the young man first, and then deal with forgiveness after he was safe.

Two minutes later, the laptop showed the room that Neal had been in for over ten hours.

Peter's blood boiled when he heard Keller compare Neal to cheap shoes. Neal was probably the best asset the division had, not to mention Peter's friend. He was anything but useless.

The only thing worse than the manic look in Keller's eyes was the look on Neal's face when he knew what Keller was doing. It was painful to see. He was so scared, but he tried his best not to show it, tried not to let everyone see the raw terror that Peter saw in those startling blue eyes.

"Now, now, Caffrey, no need to be shy," Keller said. "It looks like you already started without me."

'Is Neal's thumb dislocated?' Peter wondered to himself as he saw that it was at a strange angle and was swollen. 'Is that how he got out of his restraints before?'

Peter focused back on Neal's face as he squeezed his eyes shut and screamed and arched his back when the fingernail of his index finger was pulled off.

Keller pulled off the nail on his middle finger next. Neal's scream was somehow worse than the last.

Peter was wrong. The agonized look on Neal's face when Keller pulled nail after nail off his fingers was the worst thing he's seen. Neal was in so much pain and Peter couldn't do anything about it.

"You're right-handed, right?" Keller said conversationally after he ripped off all the fingernails from his left hand. Neal's eyes widened in response and he tried to pull away from Keller's grasp, but was too weak.

A chill ran down Peter's spine at those words. Neal's talented hands were what made countless works of art. Most were forgeries, but masterpieces nonetheless that fooled countless people into believing that they were the real thing. The original artists would probably be impressed by their beauty if they saw them.

Peter had no doubt that Keller would break Neal in every way he could, and stripping Neal of his ability to paint or sculpt would be devastating to the young man.

Keller put the index finger of Neal's right hand between the pliers. "You wanna beg?" He asked. "You still have a chance for me to stop if you ask nicely."

"You've always been jealous of my ability to make masterpieces," Neal panted. "I guess this is the only way for you to better than me." Neal was obviously trying to hide his emotions behind words, like he always does, but his eyes were telling a different story.

Neal's cry of agony and anguish almost covered the sickening sound of Neal's bones snapping.

"I've always been better than you, Caffrey," Keller whispered in Neal's ear. "You just could never admit it to yourself."

There was a sudden noise in the background and Neal perked up a little. A moment later he said "Bread," like he just solved the world's greatest mystery. He turned to the camera and it seemed like he was looking straight at Peter. "Peter, I smell br-" he was cut off by a hard slap to the face that seemed to daze him.

With that, Keller turned off the camera, leaving a room full of agents to stare at the blank screen.

The ringing of a cell phone brought Peter away from the staring contest that was losing with the screen. It was his phone that was lying on the table. Keller wasn't supposed to call for two more hours. Peter looked up to see everyone was watching him.

Reluctantly, he picked up the phone and answered it. "Hello?"

"Suit, I would usually never stoop so low as to call a device that was undoubtedly bugged by the corrupt government that you work for," Mozzie ranted, then took a breath. "But we need to talk." There was another pause and Peter waited as patiently as he could for Mozzie to work up the courage to tell him what he wanted to say. "I think something happened to Neal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad, bad Keller! Does he deserve to die, or rot in prison?


	7. Oh, Sanity, Where Have You Gone?

Neal felt that he was slowly losing hold of his sanity. The waiting, pain and humiliation was too much for him. He wasn't going to last very many more hours; Physically or emotionally.

At this point he wished that he could just pass out for the two hours of waiting, and definitely for what comes after that. But it seems that sleep was being an elusive mistress to him.

This whole thing had to be some sick nightmare anyway. All he had to do was fall asleep and he would wake up. That's how it works in movies, right? He couldn't remember. He just couldn't succumb to the sweet, painless oblivion.

Wait, they did something different in Inception. That could work. He really wanted to wake up, but he really didn't want to try pushing his chair over to feel the sense of falling in case in this was reality. That would undoubtedly hurt when he hit the ground. Leonardo DiCaprio didn't seem that smart I'm that movie anyway.

He knew he smelt bread earlier, but Keller didn't seem to be worried that he said anything as he hasn't bothered to move him yet.

He wasn't allowing himself to think of his finger. Broken bones heal. Keller probably didn't cause any permanent damage. His finger was going to be fine, right? He wished he had that answer. 'Damn-it, stop thinking about that, Caffrey,' he told himself, possibly out loud.

If he stared at the timer much longer he was probably going to go cross-eyed. But he just couldn't take his eyes away from it. It seemed far too long far too short at the same time. It told him, down to the second, when more pain would be brought upon him, and that was terrifying.

WCWCWCWC

After meeting Mozzie at a park of his choosing -surprisingly not in his usual paranoid manner- and quickly catching him up on what has been happening while he was off the radar, Mozzie, not as reluctantly as last time, came to the bureau to help.

Mozzie refused to admit to knowing anything about the treasure, but helped in another way. He already started his own man-hunt and had linked Keller to an offshore account that was owned by someone named Joe Montana (not the football player). He's known on the streets as the go-to guy if you need a safe-house. He usually picks unsuspecting places that no one would bat an eyelash at.

Montana would buy the place and then rent it to someone in need of a place to lay low or to conduct illicit activities. One of Mozzie's contacts said that Montana recently rented out an old bread making factory to someone that matched Keller's description.

It was enough to get a warrant so Peter, Diana, Jones and a SWAT team quickly made their way there. But if Neal wasn't there, Peter would threaten Mozzie with everything from obstruction of justice to accessory to a murder that Peter hoped wouldn't end up happening unless he told him where the treasure was.

They arrived with an hour and four minutes left. SWAT went in first, closely followed by the three agents.

When Peter caught sight of Keller the only thing he was thinking was his hands around the bastards neck. Unfortunately he didn't resist so Peter didn't get to strangle him.

"Where is he?!" Peter demanded and Jones took a few steps closer to put himself in a position to intervene if needed.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Burke," Keller said, but the look on his face said otherwise.

Peter didn't trust himself with Keller, so two SWAT team members took him out to one of the waiting SUV's while everyone else continued to search the long-abandoned factory.

In the basement there was a long hallway with six doors, but only one of them were metal. Peter went straight for it. Two swings from the battering ram got the door open and Peter rushed in.

There he was, looking right at them and smiling like he was witnessing a miracle. A tear rolled down his face and Peter didn't know if it was one of relief or lingering fear. "Peter," he said hoarsely.

After seeing Neal was there, Diana radioed the waiting ambulance to get ready to come in the building, while Jones and the SWAT team left to finish searching the rest of the factory.

Peter approached Neal and crouched in front of him.

Even though the quality of the video that showed the battered body of his CI was good, it was shocking to see the amount of damage done to him in person. It also made it all the more real somehow.

Peter didn't know if he should touch Neal. It's like there wasn't a place on his body where it wouldn't hurt to touch.

"Knew you'd find me," Neal said.

"What does this make me? Four-and-oh?" Peter asked.

"No way," Neal said and shook his head but stopped with a wince.

"You ok?" Peter asked but immediately wanted to kick himself for saying something so stupid. Of course he wasn't ok. "What can I do?" He asked before Neal could try to come up with something witty to say.

"Untie me?" He said, like it was a request and not stating the obvious.

Of course. Why didn't he think of that? "Yeah, ok." Peter went around to the back of the chair and couldn't help but wince.

Neal's hands were a mess; All of the fingernails on his left hand were on the ground in a small pool of blood and his left thumb and right index finger were bent at an odd angle. He tried to ignore the blood that covered the wire and tried to find a way to get it off. Peter could see that it was deeply imbedded into Neal's skin.

"Can you get it off?" Neal asked as he tried to turn a little in the chair to see Peter.

"Uh," Peter responded stupidly. He didn't think he could get the wire off without causing more damage. "I think we're going to need some wire cutters."

Neal swallowed hard. "Keller had some pliers. He left them on that table I think." He nodded his head to a table that had a timer on it that said that there were forty-seven minutes left.

Peter walked over to the table and looked for the pliers that Keller used. They were on the table like Neal said they were. He came back and pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket.

"Always be prepared," Neal said when he saw what Peter had.

"Wire cutters would have been better, but you do what you gotta do," Peter said and he saw that a chill run down Neal's frame for some reason.

"Sorry," Peter said when Neal gasped when he tried to move the wire with the pliers. "Maybe we should wait until we have some cutters."

"Please," Neal almost begged. "I need out of this chair," he said quietly.

Peter couldn't see his face and was thankful for that so he didn't have to see the desperation in Neal's voice reflected in his eyes.

Peter nodded then stopped himself when he realized Neal couldn't see him. "Yeah, I'll try," he said and used the pliers to pull the wire away from Neal's wrists again. Then he stuck the knife under the wire and started cutting them. They weren't that thick so it didn't take that long, but seemed like it to Peter whenever Neal flinched or made a sound.

"Ok, got it," Peter said when he unwrapped the wire all the way.

Neal slowly moved his arms around to his lap, but didn't look at them and sighed in obvious relief.

Peter went around to stand in front of Neal. "Can you stand?" Peter asked. Neal seemed, well, not great, but if he wanted out of the chair he was going to have to stand.

"Ummm," Neal said and looked at his foot. "Keller stabbed my foot," he said, looking a little shameful.

"Really? I didn't see..." Peter started but stopped when Neal looked up sharply.

Neal looked over to the camera then back over to Peter. "He was telling the truth," he said. It didn't seem like an question, more like a statement, but Peter nodded anyway. "I was kinda hoping he was lying," he whispered.

"We'll wait for the paramedics then," Peter said. It was probably best. He couldn't leave the room because of the ankle cuff anyway.

Neal seemed to accept that he had to wait, but didn't look happy about staying in that chair any longer. "Is Keller..?" Neal asked. "Did you get him?"

"He surrendered and we arrested him. He's not going to hurt you anymore," Peter assured Neal.

Neal nodded and Peter noticed that he was shivering. It made sense; the room was chilly and he wasn't even wearing a shirt.

Peter took off his jacket and gently draped it over the smaller mans shoulders. Neal pulled it closed and clutched it like it was a lifeline. He looked so young and vulnerable with his head down, his hair in his eyes and Peter's jacket on his lithe frame.

Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder to try to comfort him. Peter could feel him tense for a second, then relax under the touch and lean towards him a little, probably without even knowing it.

Both men were quiet while they waited. Peter was because he didn't know what to say to help, and Neal stayed quiet probably because he was in shock.

A few minutes later two paramedics came into the small room. Peter could see and feel Neal stiffen and he leaned into him until it was almost painful.

"It's ok, Neal," Peter said, "they're here to help."

Neal looked up at Peter, his eyes searching his face for something. Possibly the answers of the universe judging by how intensely he was staring. He finally looked to the paramedics nodded for them to come in and cut off the cuff and take him away to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Neal was saved! It's about time! The story is not over though. We still need some comfort to even out all the hurt! (And maybe some more hurt. ;-))


	8. Diminishing Returns

"I overestimated his loyalty to you. I'm not going to get my treasure," Keller said, looking regretful for a moment, then smiled sadistically at Neal. "But our time together wasn't completely waisted." He pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants and pulled out the magazine and casually checked the number of bullets.

Neal could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest as he watched Keller. 'This is it,' Neal thought to himself as Keller put the magazine back into the gun and slid a bullet into the chamber. 'Peter isn't going to bust down the door at the last second this time. I'm going to die.'

Neal didn't blame Peter - just the opposite. He knew that the agent tried his best to find him. He couldn't just give the treasure over - if he even knew where it was - the higher ups wouldn't have let him.

"Burke's never gonna come. He doesn't care about you," Keller said and aimed the gun at Neal. "You're no use to anyone anymore." He took the safety off the gun. "Goodbye, Neal Caffrey." Keller pulled the trigger and the bullet sailed through the air.

WCWCWCWC

Neal jerked a little when he woke, but resisted moving anymore. He didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. He could feel that he was no longer sitting up, but had no idea where he could be now.

He quickly took inventory of his surroundings without opening his eyes. Scratchy sheets, sterile air, annoying beeping sound, vague itchy feeling in the hollow of his elbow, strange drugged up feeling, muffled sounds of activity, and strangely enough, almost no pain. All of this could only mean one thing: he was in a hospital.

Was he rescued? That can't be right. He didn't remember being rescued.

Was Keller shooting him just a dream? It seemed so real, like it really happened. He heard somewhere that if you vividly remember your dreams then you enjoyed them. But there was nothing about that dream that he enjoyed. intellectual idiots.

But he wasn't dead, either. Or at least he didn't think he was.

Neal risked opening his eyes and saw that, yes, he was in a hospital. Not in either hell he thought seemed more likely for him to be in.

An image suddenly flashed in Neal's mind; Peter opening the door that kept him from freedom. A smell from a memory; Peter's cologne all around him, embracing him in warmth. A sensation; the feeling of being safe, of knowing that someone was there to help him, to rescue him.

Peter did rescue him, he just doesn't remember very much of it. A wave of relief washed over him. It was over.

The next thing that popped into Neal's head was 'where's Peter?' And like he was waiting outside until just the right moment, Peter walked in, and when he saw that Neal was awake he smiled widely.

"Hey, you're awake," Peter said as he walked over to the bed and sat down in one of the chairs that were next to the bed.

"You don't get enough credit for your deductive skills," Neal said with a smile.

"Well, I'm not in it for the recognition," Peter replied proudly. "How you feeling?"

'Safe' would probably be the best way to describe what he was feeling, but instead he went with "better."

Peter nodded. "Good," he said, but the look in his eyes said that he knew exactly what Neal didn't tell him.

There was a mostly compatible silence for a minute and Neal's eyes wandered to his body. He couldn't see his chest because of the hospital gown, but could feel that his abdomen was wrapped to help support his ribs that were probably cracked or broken. There was most likely bandages underneath for the various cuts as well. Both of his wrists were wrapped in gauze, as were all of his fingertips on his left hand. His left thumb and right index finger had splints on them and Neal was afraid to ask Peter if his finger would heal. He knew that dislocated thumbs healed, so he wasn't worried about that. Besides, that was his left hand. It wasn't the hand he uses to create.

Neal couldn't help but stare at it, hoping that he could still be able to paint and sculpt and pick locks with ease like he used to.

Peter noticed where Neal's gaze was drawn to and he heaved a sigh. He looked like he was about to tell Neal that someone close to him just died and Neal's heart sank. If Peter says 'I'm sorry for your loss' Neal might just cry.

"You'll regain full function, but it'll take time," Peter said and Neal released the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. It was such a tremendous relief to know that Keller didn't permanently cripple him.

That line of thinking brought Neal to his next question. "What happened to Keller?"

Peter looked at him questionably. "We arrested him. I told you that already. Do you not remember?"

"I don't remember much of the rescue," Neal said. "Just bits and pieces."

Peter nodded in understanding, but still looked worried. Knowing him, he was probably was making a mental note in his head to talk to the doctor about that later to make sure that it was normal.

"What else?" Neal asked and nodded vaguely at himself.

Peter heaved another sigh. "Three broken ribs and one cracked one. Like I said, your finger will heal, and so will your thumb. Keller didn't hit anything important when he stabbed your foot, and it'll heal, too. You have a concussion from Keller pistol-whipping you. The cuts on your chest were shallow, so they were just stitched up. Your wrists were in bad shape and the doctors think they'll scar a little." It almost looked physically painful for Peter to list Neal injuries. "I'm so sorry, Neal," Peter said hoarsely. It was obvious by the look on his face that he blamed himself for not getting to Neal soon enough and prevent some of the things that happened to him.

Neal took Peter's hand and looked him straight in his eyes. "Peter, it's not your fault. I don't blame you," he said slowly and sincerely. "Keller did this, not you."

"But I didn't get to you quick enough."

"But you did save me, eventually. And I'm not dead. I'd say that's a win," Neal said. "How did you find me anyway?" Neal had no idea if Peter found Mozzie and got him to give the treasure to Keller or not.

"Mozzie helped a lot. And so did you. Turns out that you were being held at an old bread making factory." Well, that didn't really answer his question, but he didn't want to ask Peter about the treasure. Who knows what that conversation would bring up.

"That's why I smelt bread," Neal said. "Did you arrest anyone else?" The only other people he remembered seeing was 'Snake' and 'Erkle'.

"Yeah, some young kid in suspenders. We found out he accidentally bumped into one of the machines and turned it on at some point. That's probably why you only smelt anything then."

"Erkle," Neal murmured.

"What was that?" Peter asked.

"I saw him. I also saw another man," Neal said.

"Do you think you could give someone his description?"

"Yeah," Neal said. If it was any other time Neal probably would have drawn it himself, but he wouldn't be able to draw much for a while, with either hand.

"Mozzie's been worried about you," Peter said. "He even said he would brave the germ infested hospital to see you. He should be around soon. But no planning any jail brakes with him," Peter said with a smirk, probably for old times sake, but what he said hit Neal like a ton of bricks. It was all the confirmation he needed. He was going to jail.

He had already had a sinking suspicion that he was going back, but now he really knew.

At least Peter seemed fine with Mozzie still wandering about. It appears that his friend won't go down with him and that was an immense relief.

Neal wondered why he didn't have cuffs on, but really didn't want to ask. Maybe that's why Peter was there - to watch him, to make sure he doesn't escape before they ship him back to prison. He could feel that he didn't have the anklet on either, so having Peter there to guard him was even more plausible.

Neal isn't going to try and run though. He's so tired of running. He'll stay and accept his punishment, even if that means going back to prison.

"When can I getting out of here?" Neal asked. He almost asked 'When am I going back to prison?', but he figured it would be easier for both of them not to talk about where he was going after he left the hospital. Peter seemed content to pretend that he wasn't putting his friend behind bars.

Friends? Is that what they were? Before the Nazi plunder Neal would have said yes right away. Now, now he doubted that's what Peter thought of him. It's probably what will make throwing him in prison easier.

Peter seemed to have a strange amount of guilt for someone that betrayed him though. He probably felt bad about Neal getting hurt, but he knew that he still deserved to go to prison for what he did. That was Peter, FBI agent 'til the end.

"Well, the doctors wanted to keep you here at least over night for observation for your concussion and they wanted to make sure you were plenty hydrated as well. They're also worried about infection, but they have you on some antibiotics to help with that," Peter said, but Neal wasn't really listening anymore.

Neal didn't want to go back, but he was already sick of the fake pleasant conversations. He didn't know why Peter was being so nice if he was just going back to jail in a few days, probably never to be visited by the agent. It would be painful at first, but he would get used to it, eventually. Hopefully.

Mozzie wouldn't visit. He didn't last time, so now he definitely won't now that the FBI knows who he is, more or less. And Peter may not let him walk free for much longer, so he'll probably be out of the country by the end of the week.

Peter wouldn't let Elizabeth visit, even if she wanted to, which Neal doubted she would. He lied to everyone. Well, he didn't lie, he omitted, but it was still a lie.

Neal doesn't think Sara will visit. She chose her path and he chose his. Looking back, he wished he never knew about the treasure. Or the music box. All it brought him was pain and guilt.

Alex didn't visit last time either and won't this time. That's just who they are.

June would probably ashamed of him for lying to everyone, herself included. She may have waited for Byron, but she won't do the same for someone like himself.

Neal survived the first four years because of Kate visiting him every week. Now he had no one to look forward to see once a week. No one to be strong for. He knew he deserved to be exiled, but he didn't know if he could make it that long without seeing a familiar face.

'What's the sentencing for knowing about seventy year old nazi plunder that wasn't supposed to exist anymore?' Neal wondered to himself. It probably wasn't something a judge deals with every day, so it's hard to know how long he'll be there. Could it be ten years? Twenty? Four seemed like an eternity, so one to two decades would probably be hell.

"Neal?" Peter's voice brought Neal back to the present.

"Yeah?" Neal asked, pretending that he didn't zone out for some unknown number of minutes.

Peter watched him closely. Finally he patted Neal's knee, picked up a newspaper that was on the table by the bed and leaned back, looking like he was ready to sit through a long and boring stakeout. "You look tired. Why don't you rest and we'll talk more later." He opened the newspaper to the crosswords and started reading the first riddle.

Neal was tired, whether it was from the drugs that were no doubt in his system or the beyond stressful day, he wasn't sure, but soon he drifted off, knowing he was safer than he had been for what seemed like a long time. He just wished it would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no happily-ever-after yet! Just wait, one of the boys will come to their senses.
> 
> I believe that Neal did the right thing when he didn't tell Peter about the treasure, but in my story, Neal is convinced that he was wrong to lie to Peter. I just wanted people to know where I stand with that being as I'm making Neal think the opposite. He couldn't have told Peter and not have himself or Mozzie go to jail.


	9. Something's Not Adding Up

Peter watched the mostly steady rise and fall of Neal's chest as he slept to reassure himself that his CI was still ok. It was a great relief for him to be safe again.

The guilt seemed to hit him full force when Neal's doctor told him the extent of his friends injures. He didn't seem to blame Peter for not saving him in time, but the guilt will still be there for a while.

Peter thought about visiting the animal that did this to Neal many, _many_ times, but he knew that hurting or killing Keller would have too many repercussions. The bastard just wasn't worth it. Not in the long run anyway. It would be satisfying to punch the smug smile off his face though.

Peter wasn't sure if he would want to push for the death penalty for Keller if it was still legal in New York. Death would be too painless. A lifetime in prison wouldn't even begin to equal what he put Neal through, but it would be better than a quick death.

Neal seemed to freeze up when he mentioned Mozzie, but Peter didn't know why. He was just making a joke about breaking out of the hospital then he zoned out with a haunted look on his face. Though Peter couldn't blame him for loosing himself in his own mind after what happened. Maybe he'll ask the little guy about it when he comes around.

Neal had said that he didn't remember much of the rescue, so did that mean that he didn't remember much of the other things that happened to him? It would be a mercy. Peter considered asking the young man when he woke up, but didn't know if he should bring it up.

Hughes wanted Peter to put the anklet back on, but he didn't know how Neal would react to having something around his ankle after what happened, so he told his boss that Neal wouldn't run. He still wasn't very satisfied with that so Peter said he would watch Neal while he was at the hospital and put in on when he left. Hughes finally agreed to that offer.

Peter's attention was brought back to the present when one of the machines hooked up to Neal started beeping, causing Neal to startle awake. He looked around frantically then stared at the door like there was some untold hell on the other side.

Before Peter could try to calm Neal down, the door opened and a nurse walked in. She smiled politely and greeted them, but by Neal's reaction you'd think she just told him that she was here to kill him.

He let out a heartbreaking whimper and tried to scramble away from her, but he hit the side rail on the bed. With nowhere to run, he switched from 'flight' to 'fight' and tried to strike the nurse when she moved closer. She managed to move away in time and Peter quickly got out of his seat to try to calm Neal down.

"Neal, it's me. It's Peter. You're safe now," he said while holding out his hands in a placating manner and staying far enough away from Neal so he didn't feel as threatened or didn't try to attack the agent.

The nurse stayed farther back and looked like she was about to call in reinforcements, but she waited to see if Peter could talk Neal down.

Neal still looked at the nurse with a terrified look on his face, but when he looked at Peter, he looked less afraid and like he wanted to believe the words.

"No one is going to hurt you anymore," Peter said and slowly moved closer.

As he approached, Peter could see Neal's eyes focus back to the present. "Peter?" Neal asked hesitantly.

Peter nodded and moved to take Neal's hand. When Neal didn't move away or try to attack, Peter picked it up, careful of his thumb and fingertips, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Neal squeezed back and relaxed in the bed. Making contact with Peter must have helped bring him back to reality as he looked like he came all the way back to earth with that touch.

Neal wiped his free hand across his face and sighed. He looked over to the nurse and gave her an sheepish smile. "Sorry about that," he said to her.

She smiled back and only hesitated slightly then went over to one the machines and pressed a few buttons. "Don't worry about it," she said and did a few more things to the machines then left.

Neal watched her the whole time, but turned his attention back to Peter when she left. "I blame the drugs for making me think she was... Someone else," Neal said. He was trying to make a joke or divert the attention from the real reason he freaked out, but obviously didn't want to say Keller's name. With good reason.

"What time is it?" Neal asked as he took his hand away and tried to look like he wasn't just freaking out a minute ago. If anyone came in now, they wouldn't have a clue about what had just happened. He wasn't called one of the best con-artists for no reason.

Peter looked at his watch to see what the time was. "Almost seven," he said.

Neal nodded. "When am I leaving?" He asked and Peter noticed his eyes darken a little.

"If you pass all the tests the doctors are going to run on you, maybe later today," Peter said. "You seem to be excited to get out of here," he said teasingly, but that got an even worse response from Neal.

He turned away and looked at the blanket covering him. "I just don't want to be here anymore," he said quietly.

Was it the confined feeling? After being held prisoner how Neal was and as long, it wouldn't be surprising. He probably wanted to be somewhere familiar too.

Peter didn't know what to say to that, so he changed the subject. "Jones is thinking about getting a dog..."


	10. That Makes A Lot More Sense

Neal thought that he was dealing with going to jail and having been tortured for some unknown number of hours pretty well. He hasn't cried, but figured that he was still in some sort of shock. He wondered when he'll crash and let all of the emotions come to the surface. Pain, lingering fear, inevitable loneliness, helplessness to change his situation, self loathing for letting himself get in this mess in the first place, a lot of anger towards Keller, some at himself, very little at Peter and Mozzie. Yeah, he'll be crying at some point, probably in his jail cell.

The doctors did their tests and said that he could leave in an hour or two. Mozzie said that he would be by before he was discharged. He was looking forward to that. He had a few things to say to his friend.

At some point he was going to have to give his statement and description of 'snake', but that will probably be the next day. He wasn't looking forward to remembering what happened, but he just wanted to get it over with, so he could put in behind him.

Peter was still sticking around for some reason, maybe to take him to the prison himself. Probably not, though. The Marshals usually took care of that. Neal decided to satisfy his curiosity and just ask. "Peter, when are the Marshals coming?"

Peter sighed. "They'll be here soon," he said, looking guilty. "I'm sorry, Neal, but I have to do this."

So Peter did feel bad about what he was going to do. And Peter wasn't escorting him to the prison, so why was he still here? To ease his own conscience?

"I understand. And I don't blame you. I did this to myself," Neal said. Peter looked a little confused, then just nodded.

A sudden thought struck Neal. What prison was Keller in? Neal doubted that Peter would let it happen, but he had to ask to know what to expect. "Peter, is Keller going to the same prison?"

"As before? Yeah, but he'll be put in a much smaller cell than last time, that's for sure," Peter said, looking a little confused my the question for some reason.

Last time Keller was in jail, he was in the same prison that Neal was in when he was in jail, the same prison Neal was going to now.

Neal felt like his heart was breaking. He couldn't believe that Peter would be fine with Keller being in the same prison as himself. Did he really not care at all?

"Peter, I can handle a lot of the prisoners in there, but I can't handle Keller," Neal said, desperation seeping into his voice.

"I guess I'll see what I can do," Peter said, looking at Neal like he was the crazy one.

"Thank you," Neal said, relieved that he didn't have to see Keller again.

"I'll go make some calls and see if he can get transferred," Peter said and left.

Neal understood that Peter was angry, but why would he think that sticking Keller in the same prison as him would be a fair punishment? Apparently Peter is more disappointed at Neal than he thought.

Neal knew that he didn't deserve that kind of punishment, he just didn't understand why Peter did. Peter was practically sending him to his death.

Neal knew he would last long in prison if Keller was there too. And the short time he lived would be hell. He didn't want to imagine what Keller would do to him for revenge. Maybe Peter would fix this and he would have an easier time in prison. He had to trust Peter one last time to help him out of the situation he was in.

WCWCWCWC

Neal's attitude was really confusing Peter. He seemed distant and depressed. He hoped that Neal wasn't too mad at him. Peter understood why he would be, but Neal seemed so sincere when he assured Peter that he didn't blame him for what happened, so what was with the cold attitude?

What confused Peter even more was his concern about where Keller was going to stay. He didn't just seem upset, he seemed outright terrified. As to why, Peter had no clue. Was it because it was Neal's home for four years? He didn't care last time Keller was there. Was it different now after what Keller did to him?

He seemed resigned about having his anklet back on though. Not what Peter expected his reaction to be. He was expecting him to either freak out or make some sort of joke. None of Neal's attitude was making sense.

He was never good with the emotions thing. Maybe El could talk to him. She's come to see him a few times, but he's always been asleep.

While Peter was on the phone with the warden of the prison Keller was at, he saw Mozzie sneak into Neal's room. Maybe seeing his friend would cheer Neal up.

About twenty minutes later, Peter finally got off the phone. The warden wasn't willing to move Keller to a different prison as he escaped the last time he was being moved. It made sense, but Peter had still wanted to try, for Neal's sake.

Less than a minute after that, a very irate looking Mozzie was approaching Peter with speed that he didn't think was possible of the little guy. "What did you say to him, suit?" Mozzie asked angrily once his got close enough.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Neal thinks that he's going back to that government sanctioned hell hole that he was condemned to for four years!" He accused while pointing a finger at the confused agent.

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked.

"He thinks he's going back to jail, you idiot!" Mozzie said, exasperation and anger fighting for dominance on his face and in his tone, with anger winning.

Peter probably would have said something about Mozzie calling him an idiot, but he was too focused on the other thing he said. Neal thinks he's going to jail? Why?

"Why do you think he thinks that?" Peter asked. Maybe Mozzie misunderstood.

"He just told me!" Mozzie said, like it was obvious.

"Why does he think he's going to jail?" Peter asked.

"You tell me, suit," Mozzie said accusingly, pointing a finger at him. "You're the one that's putting him in there."

"I'm not putting him anywhere!" Peter insisted.

"Well, he thinks you are."

"What did he say exactly?" Peter asked.

Mozzie shifted from foot to foot, looking like he was trying to figure out what to say. "He said that he was going down for... Something... and I didn't have to worry about him saying anything about any... affiliations... he had with anyone while doing... Something," He finally answered vaguely.

Peter tried to mentally work through what Mozzie just said. From what he just got from that jumbled up sentence was Neal thinks he's going to jail for something and won't rat out Mozzie out for being an accomplice. Wouldn't it have been easier to just say that?

"Wait, what does he think he did?" Peter asked.

Mozzie just looked at him like he just spoke a different language -well, one he didn't know- then shook his head sadly. "For claiming to be an investigator, you sure can't see what's right in front of you," Mozzie said.

Claiming to be? What's that supposed to mean? And what doesn't he see right in front of him?

"Can you just tell me what I'm missing instead of yelling at me?" Peter asked.

"He thinks your throwing him in jail for stealing the nazi treasure, idiot," Mozzie explained.

"Stop calling me an idiot!"

"Well, stop acting like one then," Mozzie countered.

"I have no proof that he stole the treasure."

"I know that, you know that, but does he know that?" Mozzie asked.

"Well, no. But I didn't think it needed to be said," Peter defended.

All of Neal's actions were making a lot more sense now. The distance, the depression, the look he got when he talked about leaving the hospital.

But why did Neal think he was going to jail for the nazi treasure? Peter still didn't have any real proof that Neal had anything to do with it. Or that it still existed. Keller seemed sure, but Peter can't trust a word that comes out of his mouth.

There had to be another reason as to why Neal thought he was going to prison. Maybe something Peter said- Uh oh.

Peter must have had a very revealing look on his face because Mozzie seemed to notice he realized something. "What? What do you remember?" He asked.

Peter didn't really want to tell Mozzie, but figured he had to. "I may have made a joke about you helping him break out of the hospital. Now that I think about it, it could have been misinterpreted as me talking about a jail break."

"What did you say?" Mozzie asked, curious but still angry.

"Uh... I said... 'No planing any jail breaks'," Peter said shamefully.

Mozzie looked like he either wanted to yell some more or smack Peter upside the head. But to his credit, he didn't do either. "You need to set things straight," he simply said and walked away, claiming he was hungry, but Peter figured he was just giving him and Neal some time to talk.

Peter sighed and turned to back to Neal's room. He was going to have to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Mozzie saves the day! Who knows what would have happened if he didn't help the boys.
> 
> Reviews make me smile!


	11. No Prison For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each scene of Neal being held by Keller after Neal was rescued is a dream. I'm sure most of you already knew that, but I just wanted to clarify that.

"I used to play baseball when I was a kid," Keller said conversationally as he did some practice swings with the baseball bat in his hands. "I was pretty good, had a real mean swing too, but I got kicked out of Little League when I got into a fight with the pitcher on our team."

That wasn't surprising - Keller always had a temper. Back when they were working together him and Keller got in a few arguments that Neal had feared would lead to a physical altercation - with Keller being the one to initiate it of course. Fortunately, Neal had always seen them coming and walked away so Keller could cool down before he did something they'd both regret.

There was no walking away now.

After a few more practice swings, Keller walked up to Neal's side. Neal pinched his eyes shut and tried to prepare for the impact.

WCWCWCWC

Peter opened the door to Neal's room to see the young man lying on the bed, appearing to be asleep. But when Peter approached, his eyes shot open and he flinched back. Peter was afraid that he would freak out again, but after a tense moment, Neal sighed in relief and relaxed.

"You ok?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You just startled me," Neal said and wiped a hand across his face, his eyes suspiciously shiny.

"Sorry," Peter said and Neal nodded.

"Well?" Neal asked after a moment.

"Hmm?" Peter asked.

"Did you get Keller transferred?" Neal asked. He looked so hopeful, and desperate for the right answer.

"No. He's a flight risk right now, so they're not moving him," Peter said, but now he wished he just evaded the question like Neal always does.

Neal turned white and looked at Peter like he just betrayed him, which, in his mind, he did. He looked like he was about to start crying, and Peter really didn't want that to happen, so he let Neal get it together.

Neal looked away for a minute, carefully raked his fingers through his hair, then looked at Peter again. He looked a little more put together, but he also looked heartbroken.

"Neal," Peter started, but was cut off by Neal.

"I have to go to solitary, or be moved to another prison. I know others may not be as secure, but I can't be out in the open for him to get me. I won't survive," Neal pleaded, his voice breaking at the last word. He looked so desperate for Peter to listen.

Peter was shocked. Neal actually believed he was going to jail. He half hoped Mozzie had misunderstood, or was even lying. He had to set this straight.

Peter put his hand up to silence Neal. "Neal, stop," he said and Neal stopped talking and looked up at Peter with water filled eyes.

"Neal, you're not going to jail," Peter said.

Neal didn't look as excited as Peter thought he would. He actually looked more upset. "Peter, I know you're disappointed in me, but now you're just being cruel," he said sadly.

Peter leaned in close and looked Neal directly in the eyes. "You're not going to jail, Neal," he said, much slower this time.

Neal searched Peter's face, probably for some sort of tell. "I'm not going to jail?" he asked skeptically, like he couldn't believe it, like he thought it was still a sick joke.

Peter shook his head. "No, no prison for you."

Neal let out an almost hysterical laugh and started smiling. But his smile quickly faltered. "Wait, what about the treasure?" He asked.

"I have no proof that you have it, or that is still exists," Peter said.

"What about Keller?" Neal asked.

"I have no idea why he thought it still existed, or how he even knew about it, but there's no proof," Peter answered.

Neal seemed to finally accept what Peter was telling him. He smiled again and looked the happiest he's been since he was rescued.

"Did you really think that I was going to put you in the same prison as him?" Peter asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"You were so disappointed in me. I thought... I don't know," Neal said. "It didn't really make sense to me, but you really didn't seem to care."

"I'm not disappointed in you, Neal. And I do care. I would never put you in the same prison as him, no matter what you did," Peter said sincerely.

Neal still looked unsure about what Peter said, but nodded anyway. A tear fell down his face and he hastily wiped it away while Peter pretended not to see.

A silence fell over the duo as they got lost in they're own thoughts, only interrupted by the door opening. Peter was about to turn to see who it was, but Neal tensed and a fearful look came across his face. Peter was confused and even more so when he saw it was just the doctor, but then remembered his reaction from seeing the nurse come in - He's afraid of who would come through the door.

"It's the doctor, Neal," Peter said quietly.

Neal looked up at Peter and the terrified expression slowly fell away and was replaced with one of embarrassment.

"Mr. Caffrey, it's good to see you're awake," the doctor said, not seeming to notice his fear.

"Good to be awake," Neal said happily, like he wasn't just terrified of the man moments ago.

Apparently Neal was going to pretend he wasn't afraid of someone walking through the door, so Peter played along. "You here to discharge Neal?" He asked.

"Yes, you're free to go," he said. "I just have to get your John Hancock and you'll be good to go."

Neal looked relieved to be able to leave. He was probably a lot happier to do so now that he wasn't going to prison. He pulled the blanket that was covering himself and carefully swung his legs over the of the bed, revealing his abnormally bare ankle, reminding Peter of the anklet.

Peter really didn't want to bring it up, but it wasn't something he could push off any longer. "Neal, I'm sorry but we can't leave until you get your anklet back on," he said regretfully. He carefully watched Neal's reaction. Surprisingly, fear was not the first emotion to come across Neal's face, it was surprise, then something that looked like happiness. Neal _wanted_ his anklet back on?

"Well, it's better than leg irons," Neal said. Peter nodded in agreement. "Where's the anklet then?"

"On its way," Peter said. Just then there was a knock on the the door. Neal stiffened again and not so subtlety leaned towards Peter.

Peter put a hand on Neal's shoulder to try and comfort him. He could feel him tense even more, then relax at the touch, much like he did back at the factory.

Being as he was the closest, the doctor opened the door to reveal two men in suits.

"US Marshals. We're here for Neal Caffrey," the older one said, flashing his badge.

Did he really have to word it like that? It made it sound like they were taking Neal to prison or something. Neal must have thought the same thing because he gripped Peter's pant leg. Peter looked at Neal to try to reassure him, but he was staring at the Marshals and didn't look like he was planning on looking away any time soon.

Peter decided to get them out of there as quickly as possible. With a hopefully comforting pat on the shoulder, Peter moved away from Neal and approached the two men.

"Yes. I'm his handler. I'll take care of the anklet," he said.

The two men didn't seem to want to be there anyway, so they happily gave the anklet over to Peter and left.

Peter turned to Neal and brandished the anklet.

"She's back," Neal said.

Peter approached and knelt down. He looked up to Neal. "Are you ready for this?" He asked softly, seriously. He didn't want to do this at all, but wanted to make sure Neal was ok with it.

Neal nodded. "Yeah."

The manacle didn't chafe Neal's left ankle much, but Peter still put the device on Neal's right ankle. It also might help any fear Neal might have for having something back on his ankle.

After he put it on, Peter watched Neal for a reaction. He didn't really look upset, but seemed to know that Peter was watching him and he smiled reassuringly. Peter resisted sighing in relief. He was ok with the anklet being on. That's one less thing to worry about.

It would probably be a while before people walking through doors wouldn't scare him, but they'll get there in time. And they'll get through anything else that comes up, together.

"Ready to go then?" The doctor asked. Peter had actually forgot he was still in the room. Neal didn't though, which isn't surprising; he's always been observant, though he'll probably be even more so now.

"Yep, let's go," Neal said and slid off the bed with most of his usual grace while Peter stood and backed up. The doctor gave Neal the clipboard he was holding and although he was hindered greatly by his splint, he managed to sign it.

"Do I have some clothes?" Neal asked as he looked down at the hospital gown with some distain.

The clothes Neal was wearing before definitely weren't an option. He didn't have a shirt on when he came in and his pants were bloodstained. Fortunately, June brought some clothes for Neal when she visited.

Peter went over to a cabinet by the door leading to the bathroom and pulled out an overnight bag, then tossed it onto the bed. "June brought that by when she visited. You weren't awake, but she sends her love."

Neal opened up the bag and pulled out a polo shirt and Khakis. Not what he would usually wear out, but it was easier to put on than a three-piece suit. And it's not they were going to the office or something, just home.

He went into the bathroom and changed. When he came back out he looked a lot more like the Neal Caffery Peter knows and begrudgingly loves (But would never tell anyone.)

The slight limp in his walk, bandage peeking out from under his shirt sleeve, bruises on his face and the splints and bandages on his hands and wrists stopped the illusion of nothing being wrong, but he still looked a lot better than before. He looked... Alive, happy even.

It could have been a mask Neal put on while he was in the bathroom, but Peter thought it was at least mostly real.

"Do you want to go to your apartment or come and stay with me and El?" Peter asked as they walked through the hallways of the hospital. "It's your choice, but our house has less stairs and El promised to make whatever you want tonight."

"Your place sounds nice," Neal said with a grateful smile.

Right as they were walking through the door to outside, a large man with a snake tattoo on his arm passed them. Peter didn't think much of it and Neal wasn't paying attention as he just wanted to get to the car so they could go home. The two men made their way to the Taurus, unbeknownst to the danger that just passed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the boy's are on better terms now, but will that get their happily-ever-after yet? Not with me writing! *Evil cackle!*
> 
> Reveiws make me smile! :-)


	12. Demons Of The Mind

Peter, Neal and Elizabeth were sitting on the couch after a lovely meal at the Burke's home. Elizabeth was falling asleep on Peter's shoulder while the game was playing on the TV. Neal didn't see the point in watching anymore; the team that Peter was rooting for was loosing by way too much to be able to catch up in time, but Neal didn't say anything. He wasn't paying attention anyway - there was too much on his mind to be able to focus on grown men fighting over a ball.

It was such a relief when Peter told him he wasn't going to jail. He told Peter he would go to solitary if he wouldn't send him to another prison, but he didn't think he would stay sane very long in there. He was a social animal by nature and being alone that long would fracture if not shatter his soul, whereas Keller would have shattered his mind and body in much less time if he was denied either choice.

But instead of either trying to find a way to bribe his new cell mate to protect him from Keller or waisting away in solitary, he was on the Burke's couch, listening to Elizabeth snore and Peter agree, or more often, disagree with what the announcers had to say about his team. It was a much better alternative.

Of course Peter would know exactly what Neal was thinking when someone walked through a door. He was intuitive like that, at least to Neal's thoughts or emotions. It was an irrational fear, but not one he could just ignore. Though the constant nightmares were definitely not helping him get over what happened.

Every time he closed his eyes he could see Keller's smile, could feel the pain he was inflicting in the nightmare like it was really happening. It was a constant reminder of what Keller did, of the hours of fear and pain.

He really didn't want to sleep, but knew he had to. If he had to choose, either going crazy from disturbing and vivid nightmares or going crazy from sleep deprivation, the former would probably be the best option. Hopefully the nightmares will go away soon and he'll not have to make the choice.

The anklet didn't scare him like Peter thought it would. He always felt safer with it on. He liked that someone always knew where he was, that _Peter_ always knew where he was, as crazy as that sounds. Mozzie would call it Stockholm Syndrome, but Neal likes to think of it as safety or even trust. Trust that Peter will always have his back.

"Neal?" Peter said, bringing Neal back to the present.

"Hmm?" Neal said and lifted his head to look at Peter. The TV was off so either the game was over or Peter gave up on his team winning too.

"You kinda zoned out on me for a minute," Peter said. "You ok?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

Peter nodded but didn't look away. He kept watching him for some reason.

"Stop looking at me like I'm going to have a mental breakdown," Neal said.

"You never said you weren't going to," Peter pointed out.

"If I plan on having one, you'll be the first to know," Neal promised.

Peter nodded. "Sounds good to me. You ready to get some sleep?"

"Yeah," Neal said then looked around Peter to see Elizabeth sleeping away. "You going to wake her up?"

"Yeah, her back would hurt in the morning if she slept here," Peter said. "You go on up, I'll take care of it. You look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted," Neal said and slowly got up, not wanting to jar his ribs too much.

After brushing his teeth and changing into one of Peter's t-shirts and sweatpants (Peter said they would get some of his clothes tomorrow or the next day) and purposely leaving the bedroom door open, he climbed into the Burkes' guest bed and fell asleep not a minute later.

WCWCWCWC

Neal closed his eyes and counted the last few seconds in his head. 3...2...1.

He knew when the alarm was going to go off, but he couldn't help but flinch when the high-pitched beeping started.

Neal could hear Keller walked in, but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to acknowledge the mans presence. No, not man. No human being would be able to do the things he's done, and do them with a smile on his face. He had to be some sort of monster.

"Not excited to see me, Caffery?" Keller said, and Neal could just tell that he was smiling. "I'm hurt."

He could hear Keller walk back and forth in front of him, but he still didn't open his eyes.

"Open your eyes, Caffery. I've got a surprise," Keller said excitedly.

It was hard to not know when Keller would attack, or how, but Neal just couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He couldn't look at Keller any longer.

Of course, Keller didn't like that; He wanted to see the fear and aguish in his eyes.

"Neal," someone said. It wasn't Keller, it was Peter. Peter was here to save him! Neal's eyes shot open and he saw Peter in front of him, a huge smile on his face.

"Peter!" Neal said then looked around the room. Keller was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Keller?"

"Keller?" Peter asked, confusion evident in his voice. "Keller was never here."

"What are you talking about? He was just here," Neal said, then saw that Peter had a knife in his hand. It was slick with blood.

"Keller was never here, Neal. It was always me," Peter said and smiled again. Neal recognized that smile; it was the same one Keller had on his face when he was torturing Neal.

Peter walked closer and held up the cattle prod that Keller had used, seemingly to have pulled it out of thin air.

"Peter, what are you doing?" Neal asked, scared now. "Put that down and untie me before Keller gets back."

"Have you not been listening this whole time?" Peter asked, exasperated. "You never listen to me, and that's why you need to be punished."

"Peter, you're scaring me," Neal said uneasily.

"Good, then it's working," Peter said and put the prongs onto Neal's chest.

"Peter, stop!" Neal yelled, but it was too late. Neal's back arched and let a scream escaped his throat as the pain overtook him. But Peter's betrayal was far more painful than the electricity coursing through Neal's body. Was it really him all along? Doing all of this?

He could hear Peter's voice, but couldn't tell what he was saying, the blood pounding in his ears and his own screams stopping him. He was so close, he could feel him shaking him.

The physical pain finally stopped, but the emotional pain didn't, the knowledge of Peter doing this to him didn't go away.

"Neal, it's just a dream. Wake up!" he finally heard Peter say. Why would he say that? Wait.

Neal hesitantly opened his eyes and cringed back when he saw Peter above him.

"It's ok, Neal," Peter said and held up his hands and backed up.

Neal looked around the room and saw he was in the guest bedroom of the Burkes house. And just like that, it all came back to him.

"It was just a dream," Neal said aloud, mostly to himself, but Peter still nodded. Neal sighed in relief and sat up more. He looked over to Peter, who was standing a few feet away and looking concerned. "Did I wake you up?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, but that's ok," he said. "Do you want to, uh, talk about it?" he asked after a minute.

 _'It was always me.'_ The dream was still fresh in his mind, so he really didn't want Peter's comfort at the moment. "No, that's ok," he said. "I'm already forgetting it."

"Well, if you need anything, you know where I'll be," Peter said and hovered for a few more seconds, then left, purposely leaving the door cracked.

Sleep was no longer an option - Not after that nightmare. At least not tonight. Neal looked over to the clock on the nightstand - three more hours until he was supposed to get up.

Neal curled up under the soft blankets that smelled like lavender and silently cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, poor Neal. I promise the next chapter will be happier.
> 
> Reveiws make me smile!


	13. Sunday Morning

It was hard, but Neal managed to go twelve minutes without thinking about what happened, about what Keller did to him, about his nightmares. He focused on anything and everything besides that.

He thought of Van Goghe and The Starry Night, how the stars shone bright and beautiful in the sky; and he thought about Da Vinci and the Mona Lisa, about her smile, like she had a secret she wanted to tell the world but would never do so; and about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel, The Creation Of Adam and the endless hours of work put into it, But he stopped himself before thinking of Raphael and his masterpieces - well, one in particular.

A terrifyingly familiar beeping sound shattered Neal's carefully constructed state of mind in an instant. Keller was coming. He was coming and he was going to inflict some sort of new pain on him, put him through a different kind of hell.

Neal curled up more under the blankets like it could save him from his fate. Wait, blankets? Neal peeked his head out of the blankets to see that he was, in fact, safe. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized where he was again. The sound was just the alarm clock he set last night without thinking. He reached over and turned it off.

A sudden knock on the door took Neal away from his brief reprieve, and he froze. What if...? He could be... When was the door even shut? Wait, why would he be knocking?

Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'This is the Burkes house, not that factory,' he said, reminding himself that he was safe. 'He's not here.'

Even though he knew that, he didn't think he could just answer it, so he called out "who is it?" and tried not to let the fear he felt seep into his voice. Damn environmentally triggered flashbacks.

"It's Peter. Open up." It was just Peter. Neal sighed in relief. Of course it was Peter, who else would it be?

He still didn't want to open the door, but he didn't think he really had a choice. He got out of bed and opened the door with shaking hands.

Peter stood in the doorway, a smile on his face. Not like the one in his nightmare last night, it was a genuine one that warmed Neal's heart.

"Hey, breakfast will be ready in twenty. If you hurry, you could shower before it gets too cold," Peter said.

"I don't take that long to get ready, Peter," Neal said.

"You don't have to, you just choose to when I'm waiting on you," Peter said.

Neal didn't deny what Peter said and walked back into the bedroom, then stopped and looked at Peter. "I have nothing to wear."

"You can borrow some more of my clothes for now," Peter said. "I already picked some out. They're in the bathroom."

"Okay, thanks," Neal said and headed to the bathroom. A t-shirt and jeans were neatly folded on the toilet seat.

Neal showered (not easy with two splints and an array of bandages) then put the clothes on. They were a bit too big and were obviously not Peter's favorite, but they smelled like Peter and that strangely comforted him. He didn't really have anything to help tame his mane, so he just let it do it's thing.

By that time, he could smell hash browns and bacon so he quickly headed towards the stairs, but when he moved too fast his ribs protested the movement by shooting pain across his whole abdomen. He put one hand on the wall and the other around his waist and rode out the pain. When it died down to more acceptable levels, he made his way down the stairs and into the dining room after a small detour, much slower this time.

When Peter saw Neal he looked at his watch. Neal knew he took about twelve minutes. "You just hurried to make a point," Peter accused.

"Peter, I had no idea that you were timing me. In fact, it's a little strange. Don't you have something better to do, like crosswords?" Neal said as he sat down catty-corner to Peter who was at the head of the table.

"The newspaper is always late on Sunday," Peter said. He looked annoyed about that, but Elizabeth, who was in the kitchen tending to the bacon, just rolled her eyes. It was probably a common thing for Peter to grump about.

"So, what's the plans for today?" Neal asked. "Roam Central Park aimlessly? Go to the mall and max your credit card? Steal a Degas from the MET?" He said, the mischievous quirk of his lips getting bigger as he talked.

"You are on medical leave and will not be doing any of that," Peter said with a stern point of his finger. "You wouldn't even be doing any of that if you weren't on medical leave."

"Not even roam Central Park aimlessly? What's the harm in that?"

"You could always find a way to get in trouble," Peter grumbled.

"Well, maxing out your credit card sounds like fun, but we can do it somewhere else if you want. I'm open to suggestions," Neal said.

"You're not getting ahold of my credit card, so you can just give that up," Peter said and unconsciously looked over to where his wallet _was_. "Caffrey, if my wallet isn't in my hands in five seconds you don't get any bacon," he warned as he held out his hand and gave Neal his most intimidating look.

"I don't know what your talking about, Peter. Besides, Elizabeth wouldn't let you withhold bacon from me," Neal said with a feigned innocent smile. Peter's wallet was on the bookshelf behind Neal, but Peter didn't need to know that yet.

Further investigations into the wallet theft was put on hold when the doorbell rang. A jolt of fear shot through Neal and he whipped his head around to stare at the door apprehensively.

Peter noticed, of course, and went to reassure him. "It's okay, Neal. It's just Diana. I wanted to look through some cold cases, so I had her bring some over," he said and went to open the door.

Rationally, he knew who was at the door, but it still didn't stop his heart rate from increasing and his 'flight' instinct to kick in, telling him to run, run, run!

"Hey, Diana," Peter said to the agent. It was just Diana, just like Peter said it would be. Neal let himself relax.

"Hey, boss, here's the files you wanted," she said and handed him a large box full of boring files.

"Thanks, Diana," he said.

Diana looked around Peter to look at Neal. "How is he?" She asked quietly enough that Neal couldn't hear, but Neal could still read her lips. Peter responded but he wasn't facing Neal so he couldn't see his lips move.

"See you later, Di," Peter said loud enough for Neal to hear this time. He closed the door and put the box on the coffee table in the living room and sat back down in the seat he just vacated.

"Now back to the matter at hand," Peter said and gave Neal an unwavering stare.

"Right," Neal said and put his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. "What would be acceptable for me to do today then?"

"That's not what we're talking about and you know it," Peter said.

"If we're not talking about that, then what would we be talking about?" Neal asked innocently.

Peter sighed in exasperation. "My wallet, Neal. Where is it?" Peter said.

"Did you check on the table by your keys?" Neal asked.

"Of course I checked there," Peter said, but looked there anyway. The wallet was right where Peter left it. "Okay, how'd you do that?" He asked, amused now.

"A magician never reveals their tricks," Elizabeth said as she brought over a large serving plate full of hash browns and bacon on the side. She gave Neal a wink, one that Peter didn't see as he was too focused on the food. She's a good co-conspirator.

They ate their breakfast while talking about Elizabeth's new client she was meeting today. It was just going to be Neal and Peter most of the day.

After they finished eating and Elizabeth left, Neal decided to try to get Peter to let him do something besides watching TV and reading cold cases. "Come on, Peter. I'm not an invalid. I don't-" he said and chose the wrong moment to reposition himself. He let out a small gasp and hugged his ribs.

Peter hovered uncertainly while Neal rode out the pain. When he looked up at Peter, he could see concern in his kind brown eyes. "You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, just moved wrong," Neal said, waving it off.

"Where's the pain medication the hospital gave you?" Peter asked. He went into the kitchen and found the bag with the medication. Neal took them without argument, to Peter's amazement.

After a long discussion (June was going to bring Neal's clothes tomorrow so Peter said there wasn't a point in going to get them), instead of doing the fun things Neal wanted to do, Peter and Neal stayed home and watched TV and looked through old case files. It was menial, but Neal had it admit to himself he didn't think he could do too much anyway. And it was nice to just spend some one-on-one time with Peter. Somehow this whole ordeal brought them closer together and Neal was happy to see there was a silver lining to it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reveiws make me smile!


	14. You Take My Breath Away

After three hours of resisting the pull of sleep, and undoubtedly more nightmares, Neal's body gave in and he fell into a restless slumber.

He was alone this time. Just him and the timer, counting down one agonizing second at a time.

He heard a door open, but the large metal one that led to freedom, but brought fear and pain didn't move. And it didn't sound like that one either. He could feel something shift under him, but no one was there and nothing was moving.

Then he felt someone touch him and his eyes shot open and the nightmare was gone, only to be replaced by another one, a real one.

Someone was looming over him - no, not just someone, it was 'Snake'. He tried to recoil back but Snake's hands wrapped around his throat and he couldn't move - couldn't breathe.

His hands shot up to the mans much larger ones and tried to pull them away, but they held fast, no matter what he did. The man was far larger and far stronger than Neal was.

The urge to breathe was overpowering. He had to get a breath in, had to get some air in his lungs or he'll...

The dim light coming from the streetlights outside the window were becoming duller. The man that was crushing the life out of him was becoming fuzzier. He couldn't yell for Peter - he couldn't even breathe.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stop the man from killing him, so he let go of the suffocating hands and reached for the nightstand. If he could just knock something off... The sound that the lamp caused when it hit the ground was quite loud and Neal hoped Peter heard that because he was his only hope now.

His vision telescoped until he could only see Snake's eyes. They looked nothing like Keller's when he was causing Neal pain; they were lifeless, like a cold-blooded killer. It was less terrifying to look at than Keller's sadistically delighted ones, but not by much.

Just as the last of his vision was completely filled with darkness, he heard the wonderful sound of his savior. "Neal!"

He couldn't really see what was happening, but he felt the crushing weight against his throat disappear and he could breathe again. He greedily sucked in lungful after lungful of the sweet, _sweet_ air he desperately needed.

The gasping soon turned to coughing and he turned onto his side and serendipitously got to see the last part of the action when his vision cleared. Peter was on top of Snake who was lying face-down on the floor. Peter was tying his hands with some sort of cord he probably found on the floor. Peter had the situation under control and Neal was grateful to have him around to save him time and time again.

After making sure Snake wasn't going anywhere, Peter came up to the bed and crouched down so he was eye level with Neal. He put a comforting hand on Neal's back as the last of the coughs left Neal one painful spasm at a time.

"Hey, buddy. Are you okay?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded and tried to speak, but that caused him to go into another coughing fit.

"Don't talk just yet," Peter said and if Neal wasn't so focused on trying to breathe between each cough he would have rolled his eyes. Great advice.

"Peter, did Neal have another nightmare?" Elizabeth asked, appearing at the door, still half asleep. Then she saw the large man on the floor of her guest bedroom and she was completely awake. "Peter, what's going on?" She asked a little frantically.

Peter got up from his spot by Neal and went over to his wife. "El, call an ambulance," he said in a voice far too calm for the situation. He looked back to Snake and added "and the police."

Ambulance? Neal didn't think he needed an ambulance. He cleared his throat - damn that hurts - and attempted to talk. "I don't need an ambulance, guys. I'm fine," he said, his voice very raspy, but by the look on their faces they didn't believe him for a second.

"El?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'll be back," she said and left.

Neal looked over to Snake to see that he wasn't moving. "Did you knock him out?" Neal asked.

"Yeah," Peter said, then pointed at Neal. "What did I say about talking?"

"Since when do I listen to you?" Neal joked despite nearly being murdered only minutes ago. The reality of the situation hadn't really sunken in yet.

Peter smiled and shook his head. "I think you should start trying - It would be a lot easier on the both of us," he said and Neal smiled as well.

WCWCWCWC

Peter watched the man Neal called 'Snake' to make sure he didn't wake up and try to escape until the police arrived and he let them take care of him. He had Neal to watch over so he didn't really care about him anymore.

The paramedics checked Neal out when they got there and said his throat was badly bruised but it didn't seem like there was anything wrong with his breathing, and Neal jumped on that immediately, saying that he was fine and didn't need to go back to the hospital.

Peter consulted the paramedics and they said he should be fine but to watch out for any symptoms that may appear, but it was unlikely as they probably would have already showed up by now. Peter couldn't say no to Neal when he looked so young and vulnerable - again - so he told the paramedics he would watch out for any breathing problems.

Neal was sitting on the couch with his feet pulled up under him and a blanket around his shoulders, looking a little shell-shocked, when Peter came back from seeing the paramedics off.

"Hey," Peter said quietly. Neal turned and gave Peter a shaky smile.

Peter could see the hand-shaped bruises already forming on the younger mans throat and it made him angry all over again. Angry at Keller, angry at the man that Neal called Snake and angry at himself for not seeing this coming.

He had been so stupid and it nearly cost Neal his life. "I should have had someone watching the house. I'm sorry, Neal," Peter said as he sat down in the chair across from the younger man.

"It's not your fault, Peter. If anything, it's mine," Neal said.

"How is it your fault?" Peter asked. That didn't make any sense.

"You didn't really know that there was even a threat anymore, not really. I could have told you, but I didn't want to relive any of what happened." There was a haunted look in Neal's eyes and Peter guessed he was reliving what happened now, whether he was trying to or not. He shook his head a little and the look mostly disappeared.

"You told me you saw another person; I should have acted on that," Peter said.

"You had no reason to believe he would try to kill me," Neal said, his voice shaking a little at the end. "That wasn't even what Keller wanted before."

"I still should have done something."

Neal was quiet for a moment. "How about this: I'll stop blaming _myself_ for what happened if you stop blaming yourself. How's that sound?"

Peter nodded after a second. "Sounds good to me." If Neal was happier with that plan, Peter would be more than happy to stop blaming himself.

Peter found it strange that Neal was the one trying to make everything better when it was Peter's job to do that as Neal was the hurt one.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep, so maybe I should go and give my statement now," Neal said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Neal didn't look all that much put together and Peter was concerned what that would do to his state of mind.

"I think I should get it over with," Neal said, "so I can move on." He looked both hopeful to get it over with and terrified of reliving it at the same time. "I know You've been pushing off the interview and sketch artist for me because you wanted to give me time, and I'm thankful for that, but I don't think it can be pushed off any longer."

It was hard enough to go through what he went through the first time, going through it again, even though he's just talking about it, is not something to look forward to, but Peter completely understood why Neal wanted to move on.

"Besides, I think this needs documented," Neal said and waved vaguely at his neck.

He was right, they do need the evidence to put Snake away. Peter was definitely going to do all he can to lock that bastard up for a long time. He came into his house and hurt his friend while he was sleeping in the next room. The thought made him feel sick. And if he can tie him to Keller, then that would be even better.

"Okay, we'll go after breakfast," Peter stated and got up to go to the kitchen where El was making coffee and getting out cereal boxes. He could hear Neal get up and follow and he was happy to know that Neal listened to him. It would definitely make his life easier if the kid did what he was told.


	15. Recalling The Past To Get Past It

"State your name for the record," agent Halstead said.

Neal didn't know the agent before today, but he seemed like a pretty decent guy. Judging by the ring on his left hand, he was married, and he had callouses on his hands as well. That showed Neal he was a hard worker - Peter had callouses on his hands too. - Neal would say he was about forty to forty-five, so Neal thought he probably had kids as he looked like the type. Neal bet he was a good husband and father, but he probably worked long hours and didn't see his family as much as he would like. But he probably made up for it on the weekends.

Neal knew he was just trying to distract himself from the situation, but he just couldn't help it. Peter was probably right - he wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Neal," Peter said, snapping Neal back to the present again. He'd been doing a lot of spacing out during the last couple of days.

Peter had insisted on sitting in with Neal during the interview, but he was only allowed to do so as long as he didn't try to change any facts or a bunch of other boring rules Neal wasn't really paying attention to when said. Neal appreciated the support - He felt safer and more comfortable with Peter in there. He'd seen most of what happened anyway, and that made it easier to talk about in front of him somehow.

They were in one of the glass-walled interrogation rooms. And there was a video camera pointed at him, it's red light on. But he tried to ignore that and the memories it produced as best as he could.

"Yep?" Neal said.

"Agent Halstead asked you a question," Peter said, not unkindly.

"Right," Neal said, then turned to Halstead. "What was it again?"

"Can you state your name for the record?" Halstead repeated. That was the first question. How long was this going to take?

"Neal George Caffrey," Neal said.

"Good. Can you please tell me how this all started?"

Neal told the agent about his alleged run-ins with Keller in the past and how they had a falling-out. He explained that Keller and him had a bit of a rivalry to be the better alleged conman.

"And why did Keller kidnap you?" Halstead asked.

Before the interview Peter pulled Neal aside and simply said, "the treasure was destroyed in the explosion. Keller's information about it being in your possession was false." It was a statement, not a question, or a test. It was Peter telling him in his own way what to say and what his own statement would collaborate with.

Neal was definitely surprised by that, but he just nodded, silently thanking Peter and agreeing at the same time.

Apparently after all that happened, having the truth about the treasure come out and Neal going to jail was less important. Neal didn't know what to think about the sudden charity, but he supposed Peter didn't have any real proof anyway.

"He believed I had stolen nazi plunder that was recovered a few months back, and he wanted me to give it to him." You couldn't make this stuff up.

"Did you have it?"

"No. It was destroyed in a explosion soon after its discovery." Neal made sure not to look at Peter while he said that.

"Why did he think you had it then?"

Neal shrugged. "Bad intel," he offered. This was the easy part - the hard part will be talking about the hours upon hours of torture. Maybe he'll get to skim over some of that.

"Now that we have some of the baseline, what happened during the undercover assignment you were working on when you were kidnapped?"

With the whole kidnapped and tortured mess, Neal had actually forgotten about Raquel and the amulet.

"Keller came in with a gun and scared off Raquel, then he made me come with him. There was a secret way out - that's why no one saw us leave. A van pulled up and Keller made me get in, then he tasered me and I passed out."

Neal could feel his hands starting to shake, and he was happy that there was a table in front of him to hide them under.

"Why did he kidnap you during an operation, and not when you were alone?"

"I think one would go mad if they tried to figure out the inner workings of that mans brain," Neal said, but it looked like the agent wanted more of an answer. "He might have wanted to taunt the FBI by proving that he could get passed them," he suggested.

Halstead seemed content with that answer. "What happened after he tasered you?"

Neal's mouth suddenly felt dry and he took a drink of the conveniently placed glass of water from the table. He tried to ignore the way the water rippled while he held it. He could do this. It was just talking about what happened, not reliving it.

"I woke up tied to a chair, and Keller walked in soon after that. He taunted me then called two men into the room who set up a video camera that Keller said was hooked up to the FBI somehow. He told the camera that if they didn't find and give him the treasure in two hours I would 'pay the price'." Echoing the words sent a chill down Neal's spine.

"Then what happened?" Halstead prompted. Neal must have been quiet too long.

"He came back in two hours later and told me that the FBI didn't give him the treasure."

Neal had to stop to focus on blocking out the look of glee in Keller's eyes when he threw the first punch.

"I guess I payed the price then." He really hoped the agent wouldn't make him go into detail on that.

"Can you elaborate on that?" So much for that.

Even though the walls were made of glass, Neal still felt a little trapped. "He beat me up." He really didn't know how to explain farther.

"Then what happened?"

"He came back two hours later and 'didn't hold back'," Neal said as emotionlessly as he could. "The process was repeated more times than I could keep count."

"What do you mean by him not holding back?"

"Do you really need me to tell you everything? You have it all on tape - just watch that." Neal knew that they needed his testimony to make sure Keller went down for what he did, but it was just so hard to relive it all.

"Neal," Peter said softly, calmly.

Neal nodded and tugged uselessly at the turtleneck he purposely wore today. It was way too hot in there, and he also felt like he wasn't getting enough air. He figured it was just the AC not working right.

"He, uh, he came back in with a knife and c-cut me." He paused to take a breath that didn't really help the suffocating feeling. "After that he left again and I was left alone for two more hours." The waiting wasn't nearly as bad as the torture, but it gave him plenty of time to think about what Keller would do to him next.

"What happened when he came back?" Neal doesn't know if he likes agent Halstead anymore. But Neal supposed that wasn't fair as he was just doing his job.

"He came back with a-" Neal closed his eyes and wiped a hand down his face. Until then he didn't realize he was sweating. The image of Keller holding the cattle prod was still so vivid in his mind.

Peter put a hand on Neal's shoulder probably to comfort him, but he was too deep in his memories that he didn't realize who it was, and he flinched away and nearly fell out of his chair.

"Neal, it's ok. It's just me," Peter said, but it sounded like he was underwater. The walls seemed like they were closing in and the air felt like it was becoming too thin to breathe. It felt like Snakes hands were around his throat again and that was terrifying.

He had to get out of the room before he suffocated. He tried to stand but staggered and would have fallen if strong arms weren't there to catch him - again.

"Neal. Neal, what's wrong?" Peter asked, his voice still strangely muffled.

"Out. Out, I need out," Neal gasped out. He could barely see Peter nod around the black spots that filled his vision. He was then gently pulled out of the small interrogation room and into the much bigger hallway.

Peter helped him to the floor and he leaned against the wall while he tried to get his breath back. It seemed like an impossible task until Peter sat down next to him and put a hesitant arm around his shoulders. Neal leaned into the touch and grabbed a fistful of Peter's shirt. The black spots that were invading his vision slowly disappeared and air seemed to finally get to his lungs.

When he could hear again, Neal was surprised to hear Peter repeating words over and over. "Just breathe, Neal. Just breathe. You're ok, you're safe." They were soft and comforting in a way only Peter can be, and Neal wondered how long he was saying that.

Neal really didn't want to, but he let go of Peter's shirt and pushed away to lean against the wall again.

"You alright now?" Peter asked.

Neal nodded even though he wasn't sure. He could breathe and see again, but he still could feel the unadulterated terror that had been in the back of his mind since the whole ordeal.

Neal finally gave into the childlike urge to touch Peter in some way again - to know he was there - and put a hopefully discreet hand on Peter's leg. If Peter noticed he didn't say. But of course he did - it was his leg after all.

"We'll go at your pace. Just tell me when you're ready and we'll get up then," Peter said quietly.

Neal and Peter sat there for some undetermined time until Neal finally decided that he was as ready as he was going to be.

"Ok, I'm ready," Neal said and both men stood up and went back into the less small looking interrogation room. Agent Halstead was still in there.

"Are you ready to continue?" The agent asked.

"As I'll ever be," Neal said as he sat down in the chair he previously vacated. Peter sat down beside him. "So, where were we?"

"Is there a way we can just skim over some of this?" Peter asked before Halstead could say anything.

"It's ok, Peter," Neal said.

"No, it's not," Peter said. He sounded upset. "There really isn't a point to go into detail. Neal's right - it's all on tape."

"It's not in my power to decide this," Halstead said. He looked like he wanted to help, but didn't want to get in trouble.

"Then I'll go talk to Hughes," Peter said and got up. Neal didn't move until Peter grabbed him under his arm and gently pulled him to his feet.

Neal waited until they were out of earshot to speak up. "Peter, I don't think Hughes is going to agree to this," he said.

Peter stopped outside of Hughes' office and put a hand on Neal's shoulder. "I'll take care of that, Neal. Don't worry," he said.

"What do I do?" Neal asked.

"Play with your rubber-band ball or something," he suggested, a smile playing on his lips.

Neal smiled back, then went to Peter's office, knowing Peter had everything under control. He picked up his rubber-band ball, sat down in Peter's chair and started tossing it in the air.


	16. Decisions And Poker Tournaments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are minor spoilers for the movie Maverick in this chapter. It's a movie set in old west times about a guy that wants to play in a poker competition. My mom used to play it all the time, so I know it pretty well.

The rubber-band ball was not entertaining for very long, so Neal picked up his hat and played with it for a while. That got boring after a few minutes, so he picked up Peter's favorite pen and took it apart - he always liked to do that to see how things worked. After he put the pen back together, he took out his phone and played a round of solitaire - not easy with two splints.

Peter seemed to be taking forever, but he didn't hear any yelling so he figured it was going okay. It was just so boring to wait, and keeping his mind occupied was something he needed right then.

Right when he was considering going into Hughes' office just to have something to do, he heard Peter yelling and decided it wouldn't be a good idea to go in there as he was probably the subject of the argument.

Since he had nothing else to do, he listened in as best as he could. He definitely heard the words 'Caffrey' and 'Keller', which wasn't surprising, but the word 'prison' was.

Neal knew now that Peter wouldn't put him in jail, but Hughes was a different story. Hughes knows that Neal's unorthodox ways are partly responsible for the high closure rate him and Peter have, but all of the not quite legal plans look bad on the division. No one wants to be thought of as the guy that can't control a criminal they authorized to be let out of jail.

Neal was probably over thinking the whole thing, but 'once bitten, twice shy.'

The yelling finally stopped and Peter walked into his office a minute later. Neal didn't bother getting up from Peter's chair - the agent wouldn't tell a wounded man to get out of a nice and comfortable chair to sit in a much less comfortable one, right?

"Hey, what's the word?" Neal asked.

"Hughes is okay with the statement you gave, so we just need to get your neck photographed and we'll, uh, go out to eat or something," Peter said as he stood restlessly in the doorway. His whole body language either said he really needed to go to the bathroom, or had something to say but didn't want to say it. Neal guessed it was the latter.

"What aren't you telling me?" Neal asked.

Peter sighed. "Hughes got a call from Warden Haskley - the warden from the prison Keller is in," he said hesitantly.

'Did Keller escape?' Neal wondered immediately. 'He had done it before.' A terrifying thought popped into his head suddenly. 'Would he come after me?'

Peter had stopped talking - he obviously didn't want to tell Neal what the warden said. "And?" Neal prompted. The suspense was killing him.

"Uh, Keller wants to meet with you," Peter said. That was definitely less terrifying than having Keller on the loose, but also very confusing. Why did Keller want to see him?

"You obviously don't have to go," Peter continued, "but it's your choice."

"Can I get back to you on that?" Neal asked after a moment.

Peter seemed confused as to why Neal didn't just say no and be done with Keller, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah, that sounds fine."

"So, you said something about food?" Neal said after a minute.

"Yeah, I'm starving," Peter said, then looked apologetically at Neal. "But first we need to get pictures of your neck." He waved vaguely at his own neck.

"Right, of course," Neal said, probably a little too fast. Then he definitely got up too fast, causing pain to shoot through his abdomen. He wrapped an arm around his middle and steadied himself on Peter's desk.

"You okay?" Peter asked, concerned.

Neal nodded, then straightened. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got up too fast," he said, then started walking towards a still concerned looking Peter. "Let's go," he said when Peter looked like he wouldn't move.

"Right," Peter said, then lead the way to the waiting ERT.

WCWCWCWC

When they took pictures of Neal's neck, he couldn't help but flinch when the lights flashed, but he got through that eventually. Just knowing he was being documented and put in a file somewhere just made him feel like he was just a crime scene. Or worse yet, a victim.

Since Neal was still on medical leave and Peter was given time off, both men had nothing else to do but go home.

One of Elizabeth's clients had to reschedule their appointment so she got home earlier than expected. Since they were all going to be home at the same time, they all decided to eat at home.

When Neal and Peter arrived at the Burkes, Elizabeth was at the dining room table working on her laptop.

"Hey, guys, how was the office? Are they surviving without you guys?" Elizabeth asked.

"They're getting along, but I don't know if they'll solve any cases without me," Neal said, then quickly changed his words. "I mean us."

"Yeah, right. You know, cases were solved before you got here," Peter said, then smiled. "A good example would be yours."

"Yes, but they weren't nearly as fun," Neal said with a smile of his own.

Peter's silence was answer enough.

"What are we going to eat?" Neal asked as he wandered into the kitchen and opened random cabinet doors.

"I thought we could have spaghetti and meatballs. How's that sound?" Elizabeth said. "I know it's a little early for dinner, but it's a little late for lunch, too." She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a box of angel hair spaghetti.

"That sounds delicious," Neal said. "What do you want me to do? I can start on the meatballs if you want."

"I want you to go into the living room and find a nice show to watch while me and Peter work on dinner," El said, her tone kind but uncompromising.

"I can help, Elizabeth," Neal insisted.

"Neal, you aren't allowed to disobey my wife, so you'd better listen to her," Peter said sternly, hands on his hips.

Neal looked helplessly back and forth from Peter to Elizabeth, but he could see that they were not backing down, so he relented and went into the living room and turned on the TV. Truth be told, he was exhausted. The stress of the day really wore him out. And he had a decision to make - one he really didn't want to make.

WCWCWCWC

Instead of doing what he was told to do, Neal tried to read the Burkes' lips as he knew that they would be talking about him and his 'mini breakdown'. But he was not nearly as good at it as Mozzie, so he only caught a few words, most of which were about the meal they were making.

When Peter and Elizabeth finished dinner Neal was allowed to enter the dining room so he could eat.

Dinner was delicious, of course. Elizabeth really knew what she was doing when it came to spices for the meatballs, and Peter got the consistency of the sauce just right.

Once dinner was finished and the dishes were put in the dishwasher (Neal was not allowed to help with that either), all three of them went into the living room. Elizabeth and Neal sat on the outer edges of the couch while Peter sat in the middle.

"What do you want to watch, Neal?" Elizabeth asked.

"I Don't get a say in this?" Peter asked.

"Neal is a guest in this house, so he gets to pick what to watch," Elizabeth said. Neal smiled smugly at Peter for winning the unspoken argument.

"I don't think there's anything on right now, so how about a movie?" Neal said.

"That sounds like a good idea. We've collected quite a few movies through the years, so I'm sure we'll have something good to watch," Elizabeth said.

"Do you have Maverick?" Neal asked.

"Of course you would want to watch a movie about poker," Peter said, exasperated.

"It's not only about poker, Peter. It's about adventure and love and luck," Neal told Peter.

"It wasn't luck - he cheated," Peter said.

"Really, Peter?" Neal said. "It was mostly skill and some luck."

"If the camera angles weren't all wrong you'd be able to see him slip that ace up his sleeve," Peter said.

"You guys do realize you're arguing about a fictional poker competition where the writers of the movie decided on what happened, right?" Elizabeth asked.

Peter and Neal looked at Elizabeth, then at each other like they wanted to continue their argument, but decided against it.

"Is that what you want to watch, Neal? Elizabeth asked.

"Yeah - if you have it," Neal said.

"Yeah, we have it. I think it's upstairs - I'll go get it," she said, then left.

Neal and Peter didn't speak for a minute until Peter broke the silence. "Have you made a decision?" He asked, referring to seeing Keller.

Neal sighed. "Yeah... I think I should see him," he said.

"Why?" Peter asked. There wasn't any anger or confusion in his voice - it was honest curiosity.

"I think it would help give me closure," he said shyly. "And he probably wouldn't stop asking anyway."

Peter nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll tell Hughes tomorrow." He didn't ask any more questions - he just accepted Neal's decision.

Elizabeth came back down a minute later with Mavericks DVD case. She popped the disk into the player and the commentary from both men started.


	17. Visiting El Diablo

He didn't want to be there, in fact there were many, many places he'd rather be. But he knew he needed to come if he wanted closure, and, seeing Keller in prison-orange should be quite satisfying.

Peter had insisted on coming with him and Neal was secretly grateful for his presence. It made him feel safer having the older man with him. Peter probably knew that, but Neal wouldn't say it out loud and he's sure Peter understands that as well.

Neal sat down on the metal bench with Peter and waited for the prisoner to come into the room. It seemed like so long ago that he was the one on the other side of the table. How things have changed, definitely for the better.

After a few minutes of waiting, the man he never wanted to see again came into the room. Neal's heart-rate picked up when he saw him, but he pushed the fear away as best as he could and put his game-face on.

The guard patted Keller down then held him by the arm as he led him to the bench on the other side of the table.

Neal knew he was going to have to see the man during his trial, but it wouldn't be as close as he was now. It was one thing to see him across the courtroom, but to see him five feet away made him want to give into his animalistic instincts of preservation that where yelling at him to run and hide, preferably at the Burkes. But he held his ground - he's not running this time.

Keller leaned forward, put his hands on the table and interlocked his fingers, causing the handcuffs around his wrists to clank on the metal table. "Caffrey, Burke, it's so good to see you two," he said cheerfully.

"Keller," Neal said, a bitter note in his voice.

"Not excited to see me, Caffrey? I'm hurt," he said with a smile on his face. A chill ran down Neal's spine. That was the exact words he spoke in one of the many nightmares Neal had had in the last couple of days.

Apparently Keller didn't expect a response because he moved on to bugging Peter. "So, Burke, you decided to let your mutt out on a walk. That's nice," he said, then leaned in close and whispered, like he was telling a secret, "but, if I were you, I'd invest in a muzzle."

"Why did you want to see me?" Neal asked, trying not to show any emotion other than anger on his face.

Keller gave Peter a 'you see what I mean?' look, then turned to Neal. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I heard you were attacked the other day," he said with feigned concern.

"Yeah? Where'd you hear that?" Neal challenged.

"Just a little birdie," Keller said, waving it off.

"We know that the man who tried to kill him was working for you," Peter said.

"Oh yeah? What makes you think that?"

"I saw him," Neal said.

"Where?" Keller asked with feigned confusion.

"In the room you held him for nearly twelve hours!" Peter growled.

Realization seemed to dawn on him then. "Oh! That place."

"You're going down for a hell of a lot, Keller," Peter said.

"Are you sure about that?" Keller asked, causing a bolt of fear and uncertainty to shoot through Neal. But he told himself they had Keller on too much for him to see the light of day ever again. The fear that was flowing through his veins didn't help convince him of that fact, though.

"You're not getting out of this, Keller - not this time," Peter said confidently. It helped a little to know that Peter thought he had the situation under control.

"If you say so," Keller said with an easy shrug of his shoulders.

"I think I won this match, don't you?" Neal asked with confidence he didn't feel.

"Oh, the game may be over, but the war has just begun," Keller said threateningly.

"You're going to spend the rest of your life in here, so you'd better get used to it," Neal said. "You can't hurt me anymore." He wasn't sure he wanted to say that last part out loud, but it was out there now.

"You have no idea how far my reach is," Keller said, an evil smile on his face.

"I think it goes about eight by ten feet," Peter said.

"You can't talk for yourself, Caffrey?" Keller asked, then shrugged. "Figures. You're just a mutt - a sub-human surrounded by people that don't give a damn about you."

Neal clenched his hands that were under the table into fists. It wasn't the pet remark that irked him, but the one about his friends. He knew there where people that cared about him, but the words still angered him.

"I can only imagine what that makes you," Neal said.

"Oh, I don't like to give myself titles," Keller said, leaning back. "I'm a man of originality."

"Said the forger," Neal said.

"Said the pot," Keller shot back just as quick.

"Was there a real reason you wanted to see me?" Neal asked, changing the subject.

"I just wanted to see you, of course," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're old friends, right?"

"We were something, but we were never friends," Neal said, even more contempt in his voice than the last time he said those words.

"Wow, that hurts. That hurts right here," Keller said as he put his hands over his heart.

"You know, that actually could have been believable if I didn't know for a fact you don't have anything that even resembles a heart," Neal said coldly.

Keller smiled wickedly. He loved the verbal dance him and Neal always did. Once upon a time, Neal did too - back when they were 'something.'

"Are we done here?" Peter asked.

"Does your mutt need to get back in his radius soon? Wouldn't want animal control to come and take him back to the pound were he belongs," Keller said, wolffish smile on his face.

Peter tensed even more than he was before. Neal was pretty sure the agent wouldn't attack Keller, but the man's words seemed to really get to him.

"That's fine, you guys can go." Keller smiled maliciously. "I've gotten what I wanted."

Neal had no idea what that meant, but the evil intent behind the words still scared him.

With their strange conversation over with, Peter stood up and so did Neal. Keller waited until their backs were turned to attack. He quickly stood up and lunged at Neal, makeshift shiv in hand. Peter saw the movement from the corner of his eye and grabbed Keller's arm to change the path of the blade, but not before the knife sliced Neal's arm. Neal yelped in pain and surprise and backed away.

The guard was still outside the door. He was fumbling with the keys, but there were so many on the ring he had that he was having trouble finding the right one.

Peter twisted Keller's arm until he dropped the shiv. He then took the opportunity to punch Keller square in the jaw. Finally hitting the man was very satisfying, if Peter's expression was any indication.

Before Peter could restrain him, Keller swept his leg out and hit Peter's legs, causing him to go down hard. Keller started towards Neal, picking up the knife on his way without breaking stride.

Neal backed up until he hit the wall. With nowhere to run, Keller was able to corner Neal. Keller swung his knife through the air, straight at Neal's chest, but Neal caught Keller's arm with his own. Keller continued to try to plunge the shiv into Neal's chest, but Neal's arm was a temporary defense.

Keller's anger and persistence was far more powerful then Neal and his weakened body. Neal knew he wouldn't be able to overpower Keller, so he kneed him in the stomach, putting as much force behind it as he could. Keller didn't back down though, so Neal repeated the process a few more times until Keller pulled away, holding an arm around himself as best as he could with handcuffs on. He didn't look upset or angry - he looked delighted. He was happy to be fighting Neal.

Keller held the shiv in the air, preparing to attack again when Peter tackled him to the ground. The knife fell out of Keller's hands and skittered a few feet away.

Keller tried to squirm away, but Peter pinned him to the ground. With Keller's hands still cuffed, he couldn't put up much of a fight, so Peter just held Keller down until the guard got there.

The guard finally got the door open and came over to Keller and Peter. He pulled Keller off the ground and took the prisoner away.

With Keller taken care of, Peter turned to Neal, who was watching Keller be escorted out of the room. The man was still smiling at them, the blood on his teeth making him look even more crazy.

"Neal, are you okay?" Peter asked, causing Neal to turn and look at the older man. He didn't answer though - he just stared unseeingly at Peter, like he was looking through him. "Neal," he said, louder that time.

Neal jumped and focused on Peter this time. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Peter asked. "Did he hurt you?"

Neal looked at himself. "Uh, I don't think so," he said, but the blood on his sleeve said otherwise.

It was strange he didn't feel anything. That was until Peter touched the cut. "Ow!" He said and pulled his arm out of Peter's grasp.

"Sorry, sorry," Peter said. "I just want to see how bad it is."

Neal trusted that Peter didn't try to hurt him, so he let the agent check his wound. Peter took his hand and slowly pulled the sleeve up. The cut wasn't too deep, but it was bleeding quite a bit still.

"We need to take you to the infirmary," Peter said.

"It's not that bad, Peter," Neal insisted. He just wanted to get out of there. It definitely wasn't a good idea to see Keller.

"This is going to need stitches," Peter said.

Seeing the the almost fatherly concern that was becoming common in Peter's eyes, Neal realized that the older man wouldn't let it go. So he sighed and conceded. "Fine, I'll go," he said and let Peter lead him out of the room and to the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make me smile!


	18. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I keep getting distracted. Sorry! Here's it is!

The wound required twelve painful stitches, but Peter stayed with Neal the whole time so that made it bearable. After that was done, Peter went off and started yelling at people.

First was the guard that patted Keller down, then there was another guard that tried to calm him down and stop him from his ranting, then he went to the warden. And that took a while, so Neal guessed there was a lot of yelling, but he didn't actually hear it. He just waited in the infirmary for Peter to come back and take him home.

Home. It's strange that that's what he automatically called it in his head even though it's the Burkes house and not his own. But the truth was, Neal always thought of the Burkes as one of the safest places to be, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. It had the warm and safe feeling of a place where you'd be loved and kept safe, no matter what your criminal record says. Neal had not known a place like that for a very long time, but it's a place he really needed right then.

All of which is extremely contradictive due to the fact Neal was nearly killed there two nights ago. But Peter was there to save him, like he always was.

But with all of the threats locked away, Neal hoped he can sleep soundly tonight. It would be nice to make it through the night without waking up covered in sweat and with lingering images of his night terrors to keep him company.

Peter finally came back to the infirmary, looking quite a bit less angry, much to Neal's relief.

"You doing ok?" Peter asked, again. But Peter's concern was more...sweet, for lack of a better word, than annoying.

"Yeah. Ready to go?" Neal asked as he carefully got off the gurney he was sitting on.

"Yeah, if you are," Peter said, concerned still.

"I'm fine, Peter. Let's just go," Neal said and started toward the door knowing Peter would follow.

He had been in this very infirmary too many times while in prison to want to be there any longer. Being a charming conman on the outside doesn't mean anything to men twice the size of him on the inside, and definitely doesn't stop them from beating the crap out of him just to show him who's boss. Neal quickly fell in line and trips to the infirmary became few and far between, but the first few weeks were still very hard.

Peter caught up with no problem as Neal was still limping and had to go slowly to make every other step less painful.

"Are we homeward bound?" Neal asked.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. El should be home by the time we get there, so she'll get to mother you."

"Good, you're mothering lacks a little..." Neal paused to find the right word.

"Maybe it lacks the fact that I'm not a woman?" Peter put in.

"Finesse," Neal finished.

"Well, I guess I can agree with you on that one," Peter said. They arrived at the checkout area and Peter got his phone, handcuffs and gun back while Neal just got his phone back.

"You're making it sound like agreeing with me is a bad thing," Neal said with feigned hurt.

"Well, usually I don't agree with you because I don't want both of us to be wrong. Then where'd we be?" Peter said.

"I'm not always wrong, Peter," Neal said, then paused. "But maybe this whole thing wasn't the best idea," he said, a little meekly.

Peter barked out a slightly bitter laugh. "That's one way to put it," he said as they were let out of the front gate and into the sunshine.

Neal couldn't help but take a deep breath of fresh air. Prison, no matter how long he was in there, was always suffocating to Neal. Peter gave him an odd look, but he ignored it as he looked at the vast blue sky for a moment.

Neal turned to Peter. "Let's go home," he said.

Peter smiled and put his hand on the small of Neal's back as he steered him toward the car. If he noticed Neal's 'Freudian slip', he didn't say.

WCWCWCWC

Right when Neal and Peter walked through the front door Elizabeth was there to see them. Much to both men's surprise, Elizabeth came up and hugged Neal.

Her hug wasn't tight, but it still hurt his ribs. But he didn't pull away, it was exactly what he needed at the moment - warm, loving, caring - and he melted into her embrace. He knew Peter wouldn't be jealous - it wasn't a romantic hug at all. Neal never really thought of Elizabeth like that - more like an older sister or more accurately a mother, even though she's too young to be his mother. But she has strong mothering instincts and Neal was immediately drawn to them.

"No hug for me?" Peter asked, sounding upset, but the warm smile on his face said otherwise.

Elizabeth pulled away from their embrace and Neal tried to not look disappointed. "I knew you shouldn't have gone there!" Elizabeth said, mad now. That's never good, but hopefully she wouldn't start crying. Peter couldn't handle a woman crying; he just didn't know what to do with it.

"How could you just let him get hurt?" Elizabeth asked Peter, mad at him for some reason.

"Why are you mad at me? It was Neal's idea," Peter said, pointing at the apparent offender.

"Since when do you let him make his own stupid mistakes?" She asked, probably not actually wanting an answer.

"Peter's right, Elizabeth. It was my fault. We should have never gone, but what's done is done," Neal said.

Elizabeth turned to Neal and hugged him again. "I'm so glad you're ok," she whispered.

"I'm fine, Elizabeth. I'm ok," he said into her soft hair that smelled like lavender and home.

She broke apart again, but held him at arms length. She looked him up and down. "You need to eat - you're too skinny. I say we either order Chinese or Thai."

"We should order a pizza," Peter suggested.

Elizabeth ignored Peter. "What do you want, Neal?" She asked.

Neal thought for a moment. "How about Dominos? Peter can have a pizza and you and me can have something else."

Elizabeth smiled. "I love that idea," she said. She finally let go of Neal and went to the kitchen to get the phone and Dominos menu. She came back and gave Peter the items. "I want chicken wings, but not the spicy ones." She kissed Peter. "You know what I like." She then went to the dining room table and sat down in front of her laptop and started typing away.

Peter just looked at the items in his hands with confusion, so Neal thought he would help him out. He pointed at the phone number at the bottom of the menu. "You see these numbers here? All you have to do is press those on this item here-" he pointed at the phone, "-and someone will pick up-" Neal probably would have fully explained what to do if Peter didn't stop him.

"I know how to order something, I just don't know why I have to do it," Peter explained.

"It's because you're so good at it, Peter," Neal said, like it explained everything, smiling like an idiot.

Peter sighed. "What do you want?" He asked, sounding like a defeated man.

Neal smiled like a man that just got his way, which was exactly what he was. "Chicken carbonara, please."

Peter dialed the number and put it up to his ear. "Why someone would get pasta from a pizza place is beyond me," he said as he shook his head.

"Variety is the spice of life, Peter," Neal said, then went into the dining room to see Elizabeth.

Peter shook his head in exasperation, but couldn't quite hide a smile.

WCWCWCWC

Once the food was delivered, the three of them enjoyed their diverse meal together in the living room while watching a crime show.

"What I don't get is how the cops always catch the criminals - in every episode. That's not always how it happens," Neal said during a commercial break. He was asking for an argument from Peter and he knew it. But it could be fun to argue with Peter, at least when it's just a friendly disagreement, that is.

"Well, that's how it's supposed to happen, how it should happen; you break the law, you get caught," Peter said, then a cocky smile appeared on his face. "That's how it happened with you," he held up two fingers, "twice."

Elizabeth sighed, got up and started collecting plates. She knew those two could go at it for a while, so she decided to busy herself with the cleanup.

"You're going to hold that over me until the day I die, aren't you?" Neal said, exasperated.

Peter smiled even more. "Yup."

Neal sighed, but he was secretly happy for their usual bantering. It felt like everything was almost back to normal, well as normal as the life of Neal Caffrey, ex-conman and Peter Burke, FBI agent could get.

The show came back on and Elizabeth came back in and the trio watched the investigators solve another case within an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter in this story. It's been a wonderful journey, but all journeys have to come to an end or it would start getting really boring.


	19. Support, Strength And Determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the last chapter! Thanks for sticking with me through it! Enjoy!

Neal wasn't sure where he was this time. It was completely dark save for a light that was hanging on the ceiling right above him. He was sitting in a chair and his wrists were tied to the armrests with thin but strong rope. When was this hell going to be over?

He heard footsteps echoing in the distance. They were getting louder, closer. Neal just knew it was Keller that was out there in the darkness somewhere. He pulled on the rope that was binding him, but it wouldn't give.

Neal's heart-rate picked up when Keller walked into the circle of light around him. He almost let out a whimper, but held it in. He wasn't going to give Keller the satisfaction of knowing that his presence terrified him.

"Caffrey!" Keller said cheerfully. He was holding a branding iron that had a backwards M and K on the tip of it. When Neal saw it, he started to pull at his bonds again, but they wouldn't come loose.

"There's no point in struggling, Caffrey," Keller said. "You can't save yourself, and Burke sure as hell won't come and save you. You're a sorry excuse for a conman and he knows it. He doesn't need you, and he definitely doesn't want you."

Neal tried to say something, but realized there was a rag tied around his head and in his mouth.

Keller smiled and swung the branding iron carelessly in his hands. "You talked too much last time, so I decided to shut you up for a little while."

Neal could do nothing but glare at Keller and hope the fear he felt inside wasn't showing too badly in his eyes.

Keller walked back and forth in front of Neal for a minute, then stopped in front of him. "Where should we put this?" he asked as he looked Neal's body up and down. "Hand? Chest? Back? Neck?" His eyes and smiled became predatory. "Somewhere else?"

Neal swallowed hard around the gag. He looked back down at his wrists to see if he could find a weak point in the rope, but saw nothing that could help him. He was trapped.

Keller pulled a lighter out of his pocket and sparked the fire to life. He put the M and K over the flame to heat it. "If I put on your neck or hand, you wouldn't be able to hide it as well," he said. "What do you think of that, Caffrey?"

Neal made a muffled sound of protest and shook his head fearfully.

Keller shrugged. "Doesn't matter what you think anyway." He leaned in close and whispered slowly in Neal's ear. "I can do whatever I want to you, and no one will come, no one will hear the screams."

A chill ran down Neal's spine and his breathing increased. He tried to pull away, but couldn't move very far.

Keller stood up straight and went back to heating his initials. The letters turned bright red after a few moments. Once the tip was heated enough, Keller hooked a finger under the gag and roughly pulled it down so it hung around Neal's neck. "I want to be able to hear you scream," he said, an evil glint in his eyes.

Neal knew what was coming next, but he couldn't stop it. Keller pressed the branding iron against the back of Neal's right hand and Neal didn't bother holding back a cry of agonizing pain and anguish.

WCWCWCWC

A bloodcurdling scream woke Peter in an instant. Peter was out of bed and down the hallway before he even knew what he was doing. He barely even noticed he brought his gun with him this time.

Neal didn't scream or make any noise last night, but the ever-darkening shadows under his eyes the next morning suggested that he didn't get much shut-eye.

He had no idea if it was just another nightmare, but when he made it to the door of the guest bedroom he let his training kick in. Gun at the ready, he swiftly opened the door and looked for any threats.

But the only threat was in Neal's mind. He was lying on his back in the bed, tangled up in the blankets. His hands were tightly gripping the blankets and he was breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense.

"Neal?" Peter said as he approached the panicked young man. He put his gun down on the nightstand next to the bed and turned on the lamp.

The only response Neal gave was a small whimper, so Peter put a hand on the younger man's shoulder a shook him a little. "Neal, it's only a dream. Wake up."

Neal jolted awake, then flinched away from Peter when he saw him, a look a terror on his face. His chest was heaving and he was covered in sweat, making his hair and shirt stick to his skin.

Peter put his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's me, Neal. It's Peter."

There was recognition in Neal's bright blue eyes faster than Peter expected. "Peter," he said, sounding mostly relived, but he still looked afraid. He looked around the room fearfully, like he expected someone else to be there. "Where's K-Keller?"

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. "Keller's not here, Neal. He never was," he said soothingly.

"He-he was here. H-he..." Neal stuttered, then looked at the back of his right hand. He seemed confused about what he saw, or didn't see, as it were. He then looked at his left hand. That didn't seem to help his confusion. He looked up to Peter for answers. "He...he did, I know he did."

"What do you think he did, Neal?" Peter asked softly.

Neal looked down at his hands again. "He br-branded me," he whimpered, letting out a small sob.

It was scary for Peter to hear how imaginative Neal's mind could be when making up night terrors. Peter gently took Neal's hands into his own. "Do you see anything, Neal?" He asked, not unkindly.

Neal looked at his hands for a moment, then shook his head.

"Do you _feel_ anything?"

Neal looked into Peter's eyes for a long moment, then shook his head.

"Don't you think you'd be able to see or feel something if you really were hurt?"

"But I saw him do it. I felt it too, just not anymore," Neal said, but looked less convinced.

"It was a nightmare, Neal," Peter said, slowly and clearly.

Neal stared at Peter for a long moment, then nodded. "Just a nightmare," he murmured as he looked at his hands again.

Peter nodded and put a comforting hand on Neal's shoulder for a moment. Neal sat back against the headboard.

"Do you want me to go?" Peter asked. The last time Peter woke Neal from a nightmare he didn't seem to want any company.

Neal's head shot up. "No!" He blurted out, but then he must have realized he just showed some sort of weakness and said, "I mean, you can stay if you want," but his eyes said 'please don't leave me alone.'

"Ok, I'll stay," Peter said easily, then moved to sit against the headboard next to Neal. It was a queen size bed so there was enough room for both men to sit next to each other and not touch.

Elizabeth had yet to come in to see what was going on, but Peter knew a bomb could go off next door and she would sleep right through it, so she probably didn't even hear Neal's cries of terror.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Peter asked after a minute.

Neal silently shook his head while looking straight ahead, a haunted look it his eyes. Peter figured the nightmare was still going through his head, whether he wanted it to or not.

As insensitive as it sounds, Peter really hoped Neal wouldn't start crying. If women crying was bad, Peter didn't know what to call men crying. Extremely uncomfortable, maybe. It was just so hard to deal with - It couldn't be fixed with a slug on the shoulder and a cowboy up.

Regardless of what it's called or how to fix it, Peter didn't want to be in that situation, but he would stay if Neal wanted him to.

Peter looked back over to see if he could see tears in Neal's eyes, but what he actually saw was almost as concerning; he was smiling.

It wasn't a happy smile - more like a bitter one. "Even though he's locked up in prison, he's still haunting me," Neal said hollowly.

Peter didn't need to ask who Neal was talking about. There was only one man Peter knew that had ever made Neal so terrified of closing his eyes.

"Hey, you beat him," Peter said. "He's in jail and you're free - well, fre _er_."

That got a real smile out of Neal, albeit small one.

"Do you want to talk to someone? Me, or maybe a professional?" Peter asked as casually as he could.

Neal gave him a curious look. "A shrink? Thanks, but no," he said.

"Why not? I really think it could help. And it's not something to be embarrassed or ashamed of, Neal. Plenty of people see someone after going through a traumatic event."

Neal was silent for a few moments. "Peter," he said, "do you remember what happened when I was giving my statement?"

How could he forget? It scared the crap out of him to see Neal gasping for breath with a panicked look on his face. Even though he knew in the back of his mind what was really happening, he still thought Neal was in serious trouble. But they got through it, thank goodness.

"Yeah," Peter said, knowing exactly what point Neal was trying to make.

"I really don't want a repeat of that," Neal said, a small shiver going down his spine.

"But don't you think that if you keep all of it locked up inside, it'll eat at you?" The words 'even more' were left unsaid, but both men were thinking it.

"I'll get through it, I always do," Neal said vaguely, but Peter guessed that he was referring to Kate's death, and and probably far too many other tragedies the young man had gone through in his life.

Peter didn't know what to say to that, so he just put a hopefully comforting hand on Neal's shoulder. Neal relaxed under the touch and leaned toward Peter slightly.

"How about I sleep in here tonight?" Peter asked. It wasn't a thing Peter wouldn't normally do, but it just felt so... right.

Neal looked unsure. "Really, Peter? Are you sure about that?"

Peter shrugged. "Yeah, why not? I wouldn't want to wake Elizabeth up by going back in there anyway." Neal didn't need to know that she slept like a rock. One little white lie here and there never hurt anyone.

"As long as you don't snore," Neal said as he scooted down the bed so he was lying down under the blanket.

Peter smiled. "Of course I don't snore." Peter got under the blankets as well.

"Ok, but if you wake me, I'm kicking you out," Neal warned.

"This is my house, so you can't kick me out. I can kick _you_ out if I want to," Peter said.

"You'd never kick me out, Peter. I'm too much fun," Neal said, a sleepy smile on his face. "Imagine how boring your night would be if you told me to go home."

"A full nights sleep, how boring," Peter said dryly. He turned off the lamp and the room was plunged into darkness save for the streetlights that shone through the window.

"Night," Neal said sleepily.

"Night," Peter said, then closed his eyes.

The young man that was lying next to Peter had been through hell and back and all he wanted - needed - now was someone to be there for him. And Peter was that someone, whether either man knew it or not.

For the first time since he was rescued, Neal slept soundly through the night, knowing Peter wound never let Keller hurt him ever again.

There were still demons hiding in the dark recesses of Neal's mind, but between Peter's steady support and Neal's strength and determination, they would be able to face them, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Your reviews made me smile! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> *Cue dramatic music and commercials!*
> 
> I'm just about to get to the whumping, so hold tight!
> 
> Just in case someone is out there that didn't watch Family Matters, Steve Erkel is a major geek on the show. He also wears suspenders a lot.
> 
> Reviews make me smile! :-)


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